


Mosaic Broken Hearts

by angellwings



Series: You're My Achilles' Heel [2]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Comedy, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre-Season/Series 04, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was all fire and impulse with an inevitable explosion following in her wake. Inevitable. That was a good word for her. He should have known it was inevitable she’d find her way back to him too. But he didn’t. His heart had stopped when Moreau called out her name. He’d told himself she’d gotten away from Moreau and maybe he really believed that or maybe it was a lie he’d convinced himself of so he didn’t have to think about her still there. She was still beautiful, but her fire had dimmed a little and her gaze was more careful and guarded than he’d ever seen it. Had Moreau done that to her? Had the monster tried to smother the flame completely? COMPLETE.</p><p>Part 3 "Brave and Wild" has started!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this has become a series. Not my intention but the story did that all on it's own. This one picks up where Ruthless Game left off and switches to Eliot's perspective! Hope you guys like it as much as the first one! Happy reading!  
> angellwings

He was back and she was still here. For a little while anyway. He smiled warmly at her as he watched her sleep. In all his years and all his experiences, he’d never met anyone like her before or since. From the beginning she’d been both frustrating and fascinating for him.

Both times Claire came storming into his life he’d been completely blindsided. Not once did he ever see her coming. Definitely not the first time, when he’d overheard her so eloquently telling Chapman to “Fuck off” and then watched her _dare_ him to lay a hand on her. She was all fire and impulse with an inevitable explosion following in her wake. Inevitable. That was a good word for her. He should have known it was inevitable she’d find her way back to him too. But he didn’t. His heart had stopped when Moreau called out her name. He’d told himself she’d gotten away from Moreau and maybe he really believed that or maybe it was a lie he’d convinced himself of so he didn’t have to think about her still there. She was still beautiful, but her fire had dimmed a little and her gaze was more careful and guarded than he’d ever seen it. Had _Moreau_ done that to her? Had the monster tried to smother the flame completely? If he’d had a few more years the bastard may have succeeded.

But he didn’t and she was out now. Safe. For the time being anyway.

She had plans. Eliot knew she did. She wanted freedom and enough room to stretch her legs. He understood that. She’d been caged for far too long, but selfishly he wanted to keep her with him as long as he could. He’d bartered for two weeks and, thankfully, he’d gotten it. She didn’t realize this right now, but the first week with Moreau finally gone would be her hardest. It would hit her sooner or later and then she’d crash. He knew she would. It had happened to him.

He was determined to be there when she hit that wall.

Right now, she was asleep, naked and curled into his side. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully, but he’d heard her whimper once or twice already and her muscles were tense. That alone told him something was wrong. She whispered something in her sleep and buried her face in his chest before she whimpered again. He ran a hand through her red waves and moved the hair off her neck. She was sweating and it was starting to stick. As he moved her hair he felt something along the hairline at the base of her neck. Several somethings, actually, and he knew exactly what they were. Little round burn scars in easily hidden places, usually indicated a cigarette butt had been there once upon a time. These were too old to be Moreau’s work though. They’d healed too much for that.

He sighed and placed a kiss on her forehead. No wonder she adapted to Moreau’s abuse so easily. She’d been through it before. He heard a sob escape her lips and held her tighter. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Relax,” he whispered against her forehead. Hoping somehow she’d hear him through whatever nightmare she was having. It appeared to work for a moment. The tension in her muscles eased a bit and she snuggled further into him, but a second later she awoke with a startled gasping sob and moved herself as far away from him as possible. He watched her for a moment as she curled into herself on the opposite side of the bed and just listened.

Desperate choking sobs and it sounded like she was having trouble breathing. Was she hyperventilating? Had she hit that wall he’d been dreading since they’d gotten her away from Moreau?

He reached across the bed and pulled her to him. She was still turned away and curled into herself, though. Her hands covered her face and he could feel her shaking. He draped an arm over her middle and pulled her bare back against his chest. “Claire,” he said softly. He’d started to say something else but apparently that was enough because she immediately turned, wrapped her arms around him tightly and buried her face in his chest as she continued to choke out sobs.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he said with a gulp. “What’s going on? Did you have a nightmare?”

She nodded against his chest.

“Tell me about it?” He asked gently. “Trust me, if anyone understands nightmares it’s me.”

She did nothing but sob for a few more long moments and he was afraid she was too lost in her fear to hear him. But finally she managed to speak. “There were p-people, s-s-so many people. I couldn’t—I couldn’t—“ she stopped and buried her face into his chest again with her eyes shut tight. She removed her arms from around him and ground the heels of her hands into her eyes. She stuttered a few more times before she could continue but he could barely hear her through her hands. “People piled on top of people. All dead. And I—Oh god, I helped him. I helped him. He moved all of those weapons into the hands of—people died and I _helped_ him.”

And there it was. _The Wall._

The sobbing started again and soon her words became nonsense. She was trying to talk but through the shaking and the sobbing he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He did the only thing he knew to do. He held her, stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, let her cry. Nothing else would help at this point. She wasn’t taking in much air, he could feel her struggling for a breath.

“Okay,” he said soothingly. “You gotta breathe, darlin’. You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“Monsters don’t—“ shuddering breath. “D-deserve to—“ heartwrenching sob. “Breathe.”

He tried not to wince as the full force of her words hit his ears, but he couldn’t help it. He knew _exactly_ what she was feeling. He felt it himself nearly every day. He kissed her forehead again and then tucked his hand under her chin to force her to look at him. “Sit up. Stay here. And, please, _breathe_. I’m going to get you some water. Okay?”

She nodded and reluctantly released him. He waited until she was sitting up with her back against the headboard before he left for the kitchen. He came back a short moment later with a bottled water and placed it in her hands.

“Drink it slowly,” he told her. “And then we’ll talk about it.”

She did as he asked and after a couple of sips she surprised him by reaching out and lacing her fingers through his. She clutched at his hand like a lifeline. He’d never seen her like this before but then she’d been through some pretty tough shit in the last five years they were apart. And, he thought, probably in the 19 years leading up to their meeting as well. Though, she’d never disclosed any of that to him just as he’d never disclosed any of his past to her. It was a silent agreement they’d fallen into. Don’t ask, don’t tell.

“Hey,” he said softly as he squeezed her hand to get her attention. She turned an empty gaze on him and he stroked her hand with his thumb in an attempt at a comforting gesture. He met her eyes and gave her a meaningful look. “You did what you had to…to survive.”

She let out a short sob that almost sounded like a chuckle and spoke in a hollow tone. “It wasn’t worth it. I’m not—I’m not worth it.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” Eliot told her quickly. He knew where this was heading and it was a dangerous place. One he needed to make sure she stayed away from.

“Then who does?” She asked. “Because whoever chooses, chose wrong. I should have let myself die. I mean I’d resigned myself to it anyway. I knew he would end up killing me. _I knew it_. Why am I not dead, Eliot? I should be. Everything I did for them. Everything I helped them accomplish.”

His brow furrowed. Them? She was talking about more than one person now. What exactly did she do before Moreau that led her to where she was now? She clearly wasn’t proud of it. “I don’t know who chooses, but you’re still here for a reason, Claire. You just have to find it.”

“I’m not you. There’s no happy little found family waiting for me out there. It’s just me. It’s always just me,” Claire told him as tears streaked down her cheeks. She wasn’t sobbing anymore, he decided to take that as a good sign.

He squeezed her hand again. “It’s not just you. Not anymore. You may not want me around all the time and I get that, but I’m here. All you gotta do is call and I’m there. Where ever you are, if you need me, I’ll find you.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and her tears fell freely before she looked at him with confused questioning eyes. “Why?”

“Because if anyone knows what this is, this feeling you have of guilt and loss and worthlessness, it’s me. I’m the person who understands that best. You got bodies and screaming faces in your dreams, I got ‘em in mine too. Only I can promise you mine are a lot louder and a lot bloodier. You got things to atone for, so do I. I dealt with this same thing, years ago, but unlike you I didn’t have anyone to tell,” he said honestly.  “Why do you think I only sleep an hour and a half a night? You think I want to do that? No, sweetheart, I don’t get a choice. That’s the hand I played. I know I’m going to hell. I have no doubts. I just figure I should do a little good with whatever time I got left.”

She gasped softly and then set the water bottle down on the bedside table. He started to ask her if everything was okay, but she curled herself into him and pressed a kiss on his neck. She sniffled before she spoke again. “I used to tell myself that same thing every morning. That _exact_ thing.”

“See?” Eliot said with a bitter half smile. “Not just you.” He kissed her temple and wrapped an arm around her.

“How do you deal with it? With…everything?” She asked in a hushed tone. Almost as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“One day at a time,” he answered.

She shuddered and he pulled the covers around them. Though, he wasn’t sure she was actually cold. “Does it ever get easier?” She asked.

“Eventually,” he told her. “It might take a while.” He paused thoughtfully before he continued. “It’s better when you’ve got other people around.” He knew she wanted to leave and he understood why, but he couldn’t resist trying to persuade her to stay.

She let out a soggy chuckle at him. “Good try, Spencer, but no dice.”

Of course, she saw right through that. He should know better than to try and fool a grifter, he supposed. But the chuckle was a good sign. It was a welcome sound after listening to her sobbing and gasping for air. “At least I made you laugh,” he said with a grin as he rubbed her arm comfortingly.

She chuckled again and rested a hand on his chest, over his heart. “At least.” She turned further toward him until she could comfortably rest her chin on his chest. “Thank you,” she said as her red eyes met his. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so vulnerable. She was raw and bare and had just revealed her darkest thoughts to him. It spoke volumes about how she felt about him. He knew that, even if she didn’t.

He reached up and ran a hand through her long red waves. He didn’t miss the slight wince when he reached her hairline. He wasn’t sure now was the right time to tell her he’d seen the burns. But he must have given himself away because she sighed and smiled sadly at him.

“You found them, didn’t you? The burns?” She asked.

“Wasn’t looking for ‘em or anything, I was just moving your hair out of the way,” He said calmly as his thumb brushed against one of the burns. “They’re too old to come from Moreau,” he told her.

“You’re too good at spotting old wounds. I _don’t_ want to know how you earned that skill, okay?”  She told him with a slightly teasing glare. Her tone sounded light but he felt her tense next to him.

“When you have as many injuries as I do you learn to spot the signs,” He told her. She still didn’t relax so he continued. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. I don’t expect you to.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and gave him a grateful look. “I don’t doubt I’ll tell you eventually, Eliot, but just…not tonight. I’m a little too emotionally exhausted to go down _that road_ right now.”

He didn’t blame her for that. He wasn’t exactly eager to divulge his past to her, no matter how much he trusted her. And he did trust her. More than he thought possible. He was very aware just how dangerous that was. It would probably lead to trouble, for both of them.

He felt her shift next to him and looked down to find her cuddling into him and finally closing her eyes again. Her head rested against his chest and her breathing deepened. He rubbed a hand up and down her back soothingly. She placed a featherlight kiss to his chest before she slowly relaxed against him and drifted off to sleep again. He used the hand that wasn’t on her back to move the curtain of red hair off her face and watched her for a moment.

Okay, not probably. It would definitely lead to trouble. But, he thought, any trouble that followed them would be worth it. Completely worth it.

* * *

 

In the morning Eliot was careful not to wake Claire. He decided to let her sleep as long as her body would let her. He didn’t know what she would be up for when she woke but he knew she needed to get out of this apartment. They hadn’t talked much but based on her expanded wardrobe he had a feeling Tara took her out at some point, but a shopping trip wasn’t really freedom in his opinion.

There was no one chasing her now. There was no one Claire needed to hide from, at least not in the states as far as he knew. She’d once mentioned a couple of warrants in Italy but she didn’t seem too worried about it and so neither was he. She was free to explore Boston and he thought, maybe, he could show her around. After everything Moreau put her through she deserved it.

He stepped out into his living room and sighed. He forgot that Claire was, to put it bluntly, a slob. Her clothes and shoes were everywhere. At least she kept his kitchen clean. That was probably more out of respect for him than her own personal need, he thought with an amused grin. She knew how protective he was over a good kitchen. He started to straighten up by picking up some of the things she’d left lying around and when he picked up the clutch she’d left on his coffee table a passport fell out. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop and Claire never left things out in the open that she didn’t want found so he didn’t see the harm in flipping through it.

It was a fresh, stamped once, New Zealand passport. Too new to be one she would have kept in her go bag and the ID had her picture but the first name Isla. He smirked and shook his head. So, that was who she would run off to be after their two weeks were up. It figured she’d have that plan worked out already. He didn’t blame her either. After being trapped for so long the need to run was only natural. He put the passport in the clutch and dropped it off with her clothes in the guest room. He realized, suddenly, that he was about to see a different Claire than he’d ever known before. A truly free Claire. One who could fly away at any moment if she wanted to. He was curious what that Claire would be like. He’d never known that Claire. Though, to be fair, she never really acted as if she were trapped before. She may have felt it and thought it but she disguised it with sarcasm and flirtation and an air of confidence that drew in entire rooms of people.

She was something else, and he only knew a small part of her. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about the rest. About her past before Moreau. But he knew what asking her about that would mean, it would mean he’d have to share his own past in return. That was something he’d rather avoid reliving if at all possible so he left it alone. And, to be honest, he wasn’t planning on opening up that door any time soon. She knew about what he’d done while working for Moreau, that was bad enough. He’d rather she not know the rest.

“Do you really only sleep an hour and a half a night?” Claire’s voice asked from his bedroom doorway. “I mean it makes sense when I think about it. I’ve never _ever_ woken up before you. Not once.”

He turned to find her leaning against the doorframe in a flannel button down of his and took a long moment to breathe her in. Petite curvy frame with fiery red hair and challenging blue eyes met by an understanding smile. He made a note to himself to remember how she looked at that moment. Her hair wasn’t straight like she normally kept it and her make up had been washed away.  Just long frizzy waves and fair freckled skin remained. Only the essentials, the way he liked her best.

He nodded to answer her question. “On average, yes. Some nights I’ll sleep a little longer, but typically I only need an hour and a half.”

“And you can still function like a human?” She asked with a quirked brow. “I’m impressed.”

He didn’t bring up the previous night as she approached him. He didn’t need to. She’d never shied away from talking to him before so he knew she’d bring it up if she wanted to talk. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled fondly at him.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For last night. I’m glad you were there.”

He gave her a half smile and nodded once. “I may not be there when you want me but I’m always there when you need me.”

“Ditto,” she answered with a grin. “So,” she said as she changed the subject and effectively closed the book on her emotional night. “Your two weeks officially starts today. What are you gonna do with it, Spencer?”

“For starters,” he said as he brushed a stray hair out of her face. “I’m getting you out of this apartment. If only so you don’t make a mess of it again.”

She chuckled at him and shook her head. “I’m a slob and you love it. For a hitter you’re surprisingly domestic and can’t resist cleaning up after me. Admit it, it makes you feel needed.”

He smirked and poked her side playfully. She let out a small yelping laugh and squirmed before he answered her. “Domestic ain’t a word most folks would use to describe me, you know.”

“Most folks don’t really know you that well. Do they?” She said in her Eliot voice that she’d _nearly_ perfected years ago.

“Or they don’t know me at all,” he told her. “I keep it that way. Everybody stays safe when I do.”

“So then why me?” She asked him seriously. “All those years ago, why’d you let me in?”

He probably shouldn’t have let her in. She might have been better off if he hadn’t, but even years later he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. She was probably the first thing that made him want to have a _life_ again and to be something more than what he was. He couldn’t regret her. “You were different,” he said briefly.

When he didn’t continue she rolled her eyes at him and chuckled teasingly. “Thanks. That explains everything. No need to continue,” she told him with a sarcastic grin.

He shook his head at her. “You know I’m not—I don’t know, I’m not too good at this stuff.”

She smiled warmly at him and nodded. “So, don’t tell me what you felt. Tell me what you thought. What you honestly thought when this all first started.”

“You were…alive,” he said finally. “Vibrant. You stood out and made the world seem like a place to live, not just a place to bide my time. I hadn’t felt that in a very long time. Plus, you were annoying as hell.”

She feigned an offended look before she laughed loudly. “You weren’t much better, Grumpy.”

“Yeah, well, somebody had to keep you from jumping in to those cons head first and trying to coast by on luck. Sometimes I think you don’t have a tactical bone in your body,” he said with a teasing smirk.

“Having a plan is over rated. Sometimes you just have to rely on your gut,” she told him stubbornly. “I still believe that. The Italian hated it. She had plans to back up her back up plans.”

“Remind me to never let you ask Nate about his back up plans,” Eliot told her. “That’s an argument that would never end.”

“Back up plans? Plural?” She asked in disbelief. “How many plans does he have on a regular job by job basis?”

“He never says really, but I figure 26. One for every letter of the alphabet,” Eliot said with a smirk. “Typically, Hardison dies around plan M.”

It was music to his ears when she laughed loud and long at that. He hadn’t heard her laugh that hard since long before he’d left Moreau’s crew five years ago. She rested her head against his shoulder as she laughed and then grinned back up at him. “So, Hardison dies first, huh?”

Eliot nodded. “Usually.”

“Makes sense,” she said lightly. “He seems like the panicky type.”

This time it was Eliot’s turn to laugh. He let out a short laugh at that. “Barely met him twice and you’ve already got him pegged.”

She smirked and shrugged. “I’m a quick study.”

“That’s good to know,” Eliot said with a grin.

“Why’s that?” She asked warily.

“Because I think I know what we’re going to do today. You buy any work out clothes with all those cocktail dresses?” He asked her teasingly.

“I don’t like the sound of this,” she said as she gave him a suspicious glance. “You know I don’t do well with exercise.”

“C’mon, Lanier,” Eliot said with a chuckle. “Live a little.”

She smiled slowly and sinfully at him. “Oh trust me, Spencer, I got a lot of livin’ left to do and I’m just gettin’ started.”

“Easy, Darlin’, your troublemakin’ southerner is showing,” he said with a slow smile of his own. The longer she talked the more her accent slipped back into her speech. She probably didn’t even notice it.

“Let her, I owe her a little fun,” Claire said with a wink. “You win. Let me get changed.”

She slowly released him and then sauntered away toward his guest room. He knew his eyes were on her the whole time, but he didn’t think any man could resist watching Claire Lanier walk away. She had power in that walk and she knew it.

 


	2. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know,” Claire said as they walked down the street arm in arm. “I just realized that this is technically our first actual date.” She shot him a flirtatious smile and leaned into him slightly. “Like…normal people."

“You know,” Claire said as they walked down the street arm in arm. “I just realized that this is technically our first actual date.” She shot him a flirtatious smile and leaned into him slightly. “Like… _normal_ people. Who’d have ever thought, huh? I never get to do anything normal.”

“What are you talking about? We’ve been on a date before,” he said with a furrowed brow.

“Eliot, dinner cooked in a hotel bathroom is not a date. No matter how innovative you were with your cooking methods or how long it took you to convince the hotel to let you borrow a hot plate. We’ve been forced to hide this,” she said as she motioned between them. “Even if we didn’t hide it well, from the very beginning. This is the first time we’ve done something together that wasn’t related to a job and we haven’t had to hide. Therefore, this is our first actual date,” she said logically. “That doesn’t mean we haven’t had our fair share of romantic nights. They just weren’t really _dates_.”

“You and I have very different definitions of a date,” Eliot said with a smirk.

“So, Cowboy, where are we going?” She asked as she smiled coyly at him and changed the subject.

“You’ll see,” he told her mysteriously.

She gave him a suspicious glance but didn't question him further.

“What else do you have in mind for the next two weeks?” She asked as she held his arm a little tighter.

“I figure you’ve worked since you were a teenager with the goal of getting back here so we’d spend the next two weeks exploring a little bit,” he told her with a grin. “Haven’t really had a chance to take a look at what’s outside of Boston and according to Hardison there’s a lot more to this state than I think there is.”

She laughed lightly at him. “Because it’s up north you think it doesn’t have as much adventure, don’t you?”

“We got big open spaces in the South and some amazing _natural_ sights. Can you blame me?” He asked her.

“No,” she said with a warm smile. “I come from a state with the beach on one end and mountains on the other and amazing green rolling hills in between. When I think of paradise, I think of that. It was the sweetest greenest place. I’ve missed it for 15 years. So, I definitely can’t blame you.”

He nodded and smiled affectionately at her. “Never been to North Carolina. Been to all the states around it, though.”

“Well, someday we’ll have to go and you can see for yourself,” she said softly.

“Alright, but if we do that then I get to take you to Oklahoma,” he told her. “Fair trade. Deal?”

She smiled brightly and removed one of her hands from his arm to shake hands with him. “Deal. You’re fond of deals aren’t you?”

“They’re the best way to get you to agree to anything,” he told her with a teasing smirk. “It’s been that way as long as I’ve known you.”

“That is not true!” She said with a grin as she playfully smacked his arm.

He laughed softly. “Yes it is. Everything adventurous I’ve convinced you to do has been because of a deal.”

She gave him a challenging glare. “Give me one example.”

“There was that time you let me teach you how to make an omelet, which you seem to have forgotten completely. To get you to do that I had to sneak you out to go dancing. Then there was cliff diving, I had to promise you a cheesecake to get you to jump. And the zipline ride we did in Costa Rica—“

“Okay, okay, I said _one_ ,” she said with a laugh. “Your deals tend to involve food a lot. Not that I’m complaining.”

He shrugged and smiled warmly at her. “You like it and I like to share it with you. It works out.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to practice being adventurous without a deal,” she told him with determination.

“Good,” He said with a knowing grin as they stopped. “Then let’s start today.”

She groaned and then chuckled. “This has to do with why I’m wearing work out clothes doesn’t it? I walked right into this.”

He turned her toward the door he’d stopped in front of and she sighed miserably.

“Rock climbing? You brought me to an indoor climbing place?” She asked as she read the name on the door. “You’re kidding, right?”

He said nothing and continued to grin.

“You’re not kidding. Indoor rock climbing?”

“You never know, you might like it,” he told her with a smirk. “It’s _adventurous_.”

She laughed and glared playfully at him. “Oh, I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t,” he told her as he opened the door for her.

She grinned and winked at him as she walked passed him. “No, I don’t.”

* * *

 

“This is the least attractive thing I have ever worn,” Claire said as she finished putting on the harness.

“Yet you still look damn good,” Eliot said with a lopsided grin.

“Ever the charmer, Spencer,” Claire said with a chuckle. “Okay, so this guy,” she said as she motioned to the man managing the harness and pulley system. “Spots me while I pull myself up on the knobby looking things, right?”

Eliot laughed at her and then nodded. “Yes.”

“Right, okay, I can do this,” Claire said as she took a deep breath and reached for the first hold.

“Just follow the colored tape for the route,” Eliot told her.

“Yeah, how about I just use whichever one of these things is closest,” she responded dryly.

Eliot grinned in amusement and nodded. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, darlin’.”

He watched as she got about halfway up the wall and then couldn’t seem to find anywhere for her legs to go.

“This is not a sport for people with short legs and arms,” she yelled down at him.

The guy anchoring the harness chuckled and she turned her head to glare at him.

“No body gave you permission to laugh, dude.”

This time it was Eliot that laughed at her. “I told you to follow the route.”

“Shut up, Spencer,” she said with a huff.

She was quiet for a moment as she tried to analyze all of her options. She decided to use her arms to pull herself up one or two holds until she could find a good foothold. It was pretty impressive for someone who’d never been climbing, he had to admit. She made it all the way up and patted the ceiling to signal the guy to let her down. He brought her down slowly and she smiled at Eliot victoriously. He unclipped her harness for her and then tugged a strand of her hair teasingly.

“Pretty good for a beginner.”

She rolled her eyes with a dry smile. “Fine, it’s your turn. Pick a wall and show me how it’s done, you jerk.”

It took him a quarter of the time it took her to make his way up the most difficult wall in the gym. It had a cliff face that jutted out at a steep angle and when he was back on the ground she chuckled and shook her head at him.

“Show off,” she said teasingly.

Her time decreased the longer they were there. Her competitive side was starting to show itself. She was determined to beat her own time each time she tried a wall and the walls she picked grew increasingly more difficult. By the time they were done she was exhausted but in good spirits. He gave her an expectant look and a smirk.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” she said finally. “That was fun.”

He chuckled at her and helped her take the harness off and then took off his own while she turned in her climbing shoes. They left five minutes later and were walking down the sidewalk arm in arm again.

“As first dates go,” she said with a smile. “That was a pretty good one.”

“Pretty good?” He asked. “Just pretty good?”

“If you plan on feeding me then the rating will go up,” she told him with a smirk. “It’s all on you, Shug.”

“Fine, we’ll go back, shower and change and then go to dinner,” Eliot said with a nod and a playful roll of his eyes. “So, how are you enjoying being back in the world so far?” he asked seriously.

She smiled peacefully at him and took a deep breath before she answered. “I’m not sure if the world is really all that different than it was 5 years ago, but it feels different. Bigger than it used to, somehow. Even though I’ve seen pretty much all of Europe at this point. How is that possible?”

“Because,” Eliot said as he reached over and squeezed her hand that was holding his arm. “Now you’re free to explore it the way _you_ want to, to see what _you_ want to see. That makes it different.”

“You know, I don’t think I ever really realized how often you snuck me away from Moreau’s watch dogs until you left. You helped me see the things I _wanted_ to see,” she told him with a wistful smile. “Did you ever get in trouble for that? I mean, we were watched all the time.”

“Chapman tried to blackmail me with it once or twice,” he told her honestly. “But he knew how it would turn out if he ever went through with it. Did Moreau ever let on that he knew about it?”

“Not until a couple of weeks before everything went down,” she said thoughtfully. “He knew we were close and that I liked you more than I liked him, but he didn’t seem to know how _close_ we were until things started to go bad. He was pretty jealous of you, actually. He couldn’t seem to let it go. He had a habit of asking me to compare you to him after he took me to dinner or we went to an event.” She paused and then continued awkwardly, “Or _other_ things. Honestly, I think his obsession was less about me and more about the fact that he thought he’d humiliated you in some way. I was just the trophy.”

No wonder the fire she once possessed had dimmed. Eliot knew Moreau had treated her like property but to feel as though the only value you had in anyone's eyes was merely symbolic would almost be worse. If it was possible he hated Moreau even more for that. Then there was the _small_ issue of him feeling like it was his own damn fault. She'd been a casualty of Moreau trying to defeat _him_. Just one more way she probably would have been better off if he'd kept his distance all those years ago.

“You’re a lot more than a trophy,” he told her with a meaningful glance as he brought one of her hands to his lips kissed the back of it. To ease the tension, he smirked teasingly at her and continued with a wink. “For starters, a trophy isn’t bossy or sarcastic.”

She chuckled and blushed lightly before she smacked his arm playfully. "Nice, Spencer."

“I am serious, though," he said as he stopped them from walking any further. He turned to face her and gently tucked a fly away hair behind her ear. "You know you’re more than that, don't you?"

“Sometimes I do,” she said honestly as she focused on the sidewalk to avoid meeting his gaze. “But that’s part of the reason I want to leave, Eliot. I _need_ to prove it to myself. I don't want to _sometimes_ know it. I want to know it all the time.”

He thought he understood why before but when she put it that way he realized he didn't really understand at all. _Until now_. It was less about seeing the world and more about discovering who she was and what she wanted. It was about believing in herself. Something he knew she struggled with no matter how confident she seemed.

“In the meantime, I guess I’ll just have to keep reminding you,” he told her as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her to him, and leaned forward to kiss her temple.

She blushed and finally met his eyes as they started walking again. “You know, your new little make shift family has probably been better for you than you realize.”

His brow furrowed at her in surprise. “What?”

“5 years ago, we wouldn’t have talked this much. You would have been here for me, sure, but I would’ve had to read all of this from your body language.  And then there’s your eyes…”

He felt self-conscious now. “What about my eyes?”

“They were always so angry. No matter what else you were feeling there was mostly anger there. I had to really look to see anything else. It was there all the time. But now…” she paused and then continued reluctantly. “Now it’s the anger I have to really look for. It’s taken a backseat to everything else. And the only thing I can credit that change to is _them_.”

“I don’t know about _that_ —“

“No, Eliot, don’t deny it. Not to me, at least. It’s a good change. It looks good on you. Trust me,” she said as she placed a brief kiss on his lips and then rubbed his back lightly.

“They drive me crazy most of the time,” he told her after a prolonged moment of silence passed between them.

She chuckled and nodded. “That’s what family does, if I remember correctly. Of course, it’s been a while since I’ve had one so I may not be the best person to judge.”

“You never talk about your family,” he said observantly. It was a touchy subject for them both, he knew. Neither of them had ever brought it up.

“Neither do you,” she told him with a pointed glance.

“It’s complicated,” He said with a sigh. He should have seen that coming.

She smiled and patted his arm in sympathy. “I know all about complicated, Shug. I get it.”

“Is it a bad thing that we don’t talk about it?” He asked her worriedly. Most other people would have by now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked him with a furrowed brow.

“Not really, no,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Good, neither do I,” she told him with an understanding smile. “I don’t think it’s good or bad. I just think neither of us are ready to share quite yet. Let’s just let it happen whenever it happens and not worry about what is acceptable for normal people. I think we both know we’re not ever going to be _normal_.”

He gave her a half of a smile and nodded in agreement. That was one thing that had always appealed to him about Claire. She understood about secrets. She had plenty of her own and never pressured him to confide in her. Everyone kept secrets for a reason and she didn't feel like she had an automatic right to know them. His or anyone else's. Yet another reason she was different than a lot of other women he'd known.

They finally made it back to his place and she hopped in the shower first. They both knew it would take her the longest to get ready for a dinner out. Twenty minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel with another towel in her hand as she towel dried her long wet hair.

“You’re going to straighten it again, aren’t you?” He asked as he motioned to her hair.

She quirked a brow at him. “Yes, do you have something to say about that?”

There was a line that he was coming up on. A very thin line between offering an opinion and telling her what to do. It was a dangerous one. One wrong word and the whole day would be ruined. She’d had plenty of people telling her what to do for far too long. He by no means wanted to add to that. He had to watch his next words very carefully.

“Not really, no,” he said hesitantly. He met her eyes and smiled softly at her. “It’s just an opinion. You can take it or leave it.”

The tension in the air eased and her posture relaxed. She still looked wary of what he was about to say, but she appeared to be open to hearing him. “What opinion is that?”

“It suits you when you let it air dry,” he told her honestly.

Her nose scrunched up for a moment in disgust before she spoke. “You mean when it’s all big and frizzy and wavy?”

He chuckled at her and shook his head. “Is that what you see when you look in the mirror? Big, frizzy, and wavy?”

“That’s what it is, Eliot. Not what I see.”

He approached her slowly and wrapped his hands around her waist. “Then maybe you’re looking at it all wrong. Because I happen to like your wavy hair.”

She blushed and smiled at him. “You do?”

“I do,” he told her with a nod.

“Well, then maybe I’ll save that look just for you,” she said with a smile.

“I can live with that,” he told her as she dropped the other towel she'd been using on her hair on the back of his couch and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands slipped into her wet hair and she closed the distance between them to kiss him deeply. He pulled her closer as they continued to kiss and then he was reminded that they were trying to get ready for dinner by the feeling of terry cloth under his fingers. He pulled away and grinned at her. “If we keep doing _this_ we’re never going to make it out the door.”

She chuckled and nodded. “Okay, okay, I guess I’ll go get dressed.” She winked at him as she released him and walked away. She stopped at the door to the guest bedroom and turned to speak to him. “But this ain’t over, Spencer. Got that?” 

“Got it,” he said with a smirk as headed to the bathroom for his own shower.


	3. Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot and Claire have a discussion they never expected to have and Eliot calls in a favor from a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you guys who have read or commented or given kudos to this story so far: thank you so much! I know I've probably lost some people but setting up a new work instead of continuing the old one but I think it needed to be done so I'm glad you guys returned and found this story! I'm glad those of you that came back are enjoying Claire! Thank you so much for your continued support!  
> Happy reading!  
> angellwings

That night Eliot rolled over, half asleep, and reached for Claire only to find her side of the bed empty. He furrowed his brow at the other side of his bed that was barely disturbed and glanced down at his watch. An hour, he’d been asleep an hour. Claire never got up before him. He sat up and looked around the room. The bedroom door was cracked open and Claire was nowhere to be found in the room. Now, he was worried. Did she leave? Or had she had a nightmare and gone somewhere while she was emotional? Had she gone out alone? He was half asleep and a thousand ways she could be in danger ran through his mind. They'd taken care of Moreau but it was more than possible he had associates who would love to get their hands on Claire. He shook himself and rubbed a hand across his face to wake up. He got out of bed and pulled on a shirt to wear with his boxers before he walked out into his living room. He was probably being paranoid, however, it was hard to be paranoid when you had as many enemies as he and Claire did.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned toward the window in his living room. She was sitting in an arm chair next to the window gazing out over the city. She’d wrapped a blanket around herself to keep warm. She looked…lost. As he approached he could see she had her legs curled underneath her and a mug of coffee in her hands. He cleared his throat to alert her of his presence and he didn’t miss her slight jump at the sound. She turned hesitantly to face him, but didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” he said in a concerned tone. “You okay? Did you have a nightmare again?”

She shook her head and swallowed thickly. “Too afraid of one to sleep,” she told him with a sigh as she set the coffee cup on the window sill. “I don’t want to see those faces or those bodies. It was horrifying. I—“ she stopped her sentence short as her unshed tears crept into her voice and it cracked ever so slightly. “I can’t see that again, Eliot. _I can’t_.”

He squeezed into the large armchair beside of her and then carefully scooted her into his lap. She rested her head against his chest and crossed her arms over her own chest. He rested one hand on her hip and the other across her knees. Eliot placed a kiss on the top of her head before he held her tighter against him.

“Avoiding sleep isn’t going to stop you from seeing it, darlin’,” Eliot told her honestly. “You’re seeing it right now, aren’t you?”

She closed her eyes tight and nodded her head against his chest. Her breathing was shallow as she tried desperately not to cry. “It won’t go away. It never goes away.”

Eliot decided she needed to think about something else for a while. A distraction. Something she enjoyed. Or used to enjoy, he thought sadly.

“You still sing?” He asked.

She sniffled and then nodded. “Sometimes. Not as much as I used to." 

“I learned something while we were apart,” he told her with a grin as he thought back to a previous job.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“I can sing too.”

She chuckled and met his eyes with her watery ones. “You knew _that._ "

"I didn't. I didn't know I could sing in front of people. Not like you," he said as she poked her waist teasingly.

"I told you that for two damn years, Spencer. What finally made you agree with me?” She asked him with a grin as she squirmed away from his hand slightly.

“A job we did earlier this year,” he said vaguely. “Fiddle game and I was the fiddle.”

“So, this family of yours made you sing, huh?” She asked with a smirk. “And I thought they were good for you before, well, now I know they are. Had you singing harmonies for me for two years and yet you never actually admitted you could sing. You’re unbelievable, Cowboy.”

He laughed lightly and ran a light soothing hand across her knee. “If you ever feel like singing again,” he told her. “I’ve got a guitar. You’re free to use it, darlin’.”

“I might take you up on that sometime,” she told him as she unfolded her arms and placed her left hand directly over his heart. She’d done the same thing the night before. It must offer her some sort of comfort. He expected them to drift off into silence after that. Her eye lids were looking heavier. But she surprised him, just as she had with the hand holding the night before, by speaking softly. “The burns are from my step father.”

That was a completely unexpected admission. She’d never told him anything about her life before Moreau. He didn’t speak. He was too afraid he’d do something to scare her into silence. He didn’t dare move either because with just those seven words he wanted to hide her away from everything and everyone. She sounded small. Like she must have been when those burns happened.

“He was an angry drunk and…sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night to him pressing a cigarette butt into the back of my neck. Never told me what I supposedly did to deserve it. Not once. Not that it mattered. Anything would have set him off. There wasn’t anything I could have done that would have changed it.”

He sat there in stunned silence for a long moment. He knew they'd discussed their tendency to not talk about their past earlier today but he didn't mean for her to take that as a request. He hoped she didn't think that he was trying to pressure her into talking to him. “You didn’t have to—“

“I know,” she told him.

“Then why did you—“

“I felt like saying it, I guess. I’ve…never told anybody about that before,” she said with an emotional gulp. “Seems right you should be the first person I admit it to for some reason.”

His hands tightened on her ever so slightly and he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “My dad and I fell out over a hardware store,” he admitted with a dry chuckle. “Sounds dumb but at the time it seemed important. I wanted to serve my country and he wanted me to take over the business. I wanted more than that and he didn’t understand it. By the time I thought about trying to patch things up I just…I thought it might be too late and then I thought that he might be better off, safer, without me. You know?”

“I know,” she said with a nod and an understanding smile. He could tell she hadn’t been expecting him to tell her anything in return, but…

Well, the way he saw it fair was fair. And true, it wasn’t his darkest secret, but they’d agreed to share what they felt comfortable with.

She reached a hand up to the side of his face and ran a thumb across his cheek before she pulled him to her for a soft and slow kiss. It was a thankful and full of an emotion he couldn't really name. It was the most intimate kiss they'd ever shared. It wasn't one the preceded something else or something desperate that communicated need. And it wasn't something he did to celebrate that he was still alive after a particularly nasty job or that she was still whole after a grift that left her vulnerable. All of those things they had done before, numerous times. But this kiss was new to them. It was bare and open and sensual. When they pulled apart she rested her head against his chest again and placed her left hand on top of the hand he had on her knee. There was a long moment of silence as they both allowed the things they'd just revealed to eachother to settle in. He never felt right telling other people about his past. It felt too protected and private to share with most people. But he trusted Claire. He couldn't say he was ready to tell her everything  _but_  he'd just revealed part of his past to her and it didn't feel wrong. There was no nagging feeling that he'd just revealed a weakness. No fear that she would use it against him. Just... _relief_ that someone knew. 

“That wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be," Claire said after the moment of silence had passed. Her thoughts must have taken a similar path to his own.

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Definitely not as painful as I expected.”

Her eyelids drooped and slowly drifted closed. After a few minutes he felt her breathing deepen and her muscles relax against him. She’d actually fallen asleep. Now he just had to hope that she managed to sleep peacefully. His own eye lids felt heavy and he could feel sleep coming. He shifted Claire a little closer and held her a little tighter as he finally drifted off himself.  His last thoughts before he fell asleep were of what he’d do to Claire’s step father if he ever met him.  Whoever he was, the man better hope that day never came.

* * *

 

He woke up nearly two hours later. He was surprised he slept that long, but then it was kind of cozy having Claire in his lap. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone. He reluctantly lifted her off his lap and left her curled up in the chair by herself. He pulled the blanket over her and then kissed the top of her head before he grabbed his phone and stepped outside into the hallway.

He dialed a familiar number and waited for someone to pick up.

“Eliot?” 

“Hardison, can you book a flight for me and Claire?”

“What am I? Your travel agent? Seriously? You can’t book that without me?”

“You know all the aliases. Will you just do it?”

“Now you want a favor. You rag on me all the time for what I do and now you want a favor.”

“Can you do it or not?” Eliot asked with a huff.

“Of course I can do it, man. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Then can you do it and _shut up_?” Eliot asked with a growl.

“You know, what happened to radio silence in between jobs? Aren’t we supposed to _not_ talk to each other?”

 _“Hardison_ ,” he sneered.

“Yeah, fine, whatever. Meet me at the bar in a couple of hours and I’ll have your tickets,” Hardison said with a sigh. “Man, the things I do for you people. Where are you wanting to whisk Arm Candy away to?”

“Nantucket,” he told him.

“Nantucket?” Hardison asked in disgust. “Dude, you could take her any where. The Bahamas, Brazil, Spain, Australia—any number of places that would have better beaches than _Nantucket_.”

“She’s been to all those places, jackass,” he said with a huff. “She’s never been to Nantucket. Will you just do it?”

“Big mistake, bruh. But fine. Like I said meet me at the bar in two hours.”

Eliot hung up the phone and then slipped back inside the apartment. If Claire wanted to be back in the States then he’d show her some of it. And maybe a trip away would get her mind off of that nightmare. Claire was still sleeping when he got in. She appeared to be sleeping soundly with no sign of a nightmare. He made a pot of coffee and kept an eye on Claire for any signs of her nightmares returning. He leaned against his counter and slowly sipped a cup of coffee. He was worried about her. She was afraid of this nightmare so much that she was willing to avoid sleep altogether. That wasn’t healthy. He needed to get her passed this somehow.

Maybe he could get her to really talk about it. She’d told him a little of her childhood last night, but she’d still told him next to nothing about what happened with Moreau. Getting that off of her chest might be just what she needed to help her, and part of him hoped getting out of Boston (and his apartment) might help.

When he finished his coffee he took a quick shower and packed a small duffel for himself. By the time he’d dressed and dropped his bag by the door Claire was stirring and slowly waking up. She stretched her arms over her head and the blanket fell to the floor. She yawned and Eliot felt her eyes land on him from across the room. Her brow furrowed when she saw the bag and he could see worry in her half lidded eyes.

“Going somewhere?” she asked in a groggy voice.

“Yes, and you’re coming with me,” He answered with a small smile.

She perked up and smiled sleepily. “Where are we going?”

“Well, first, we have to meet Hardison at the bar in an hour.”

She frowned at him. “Please tell me we’re doing more than that because that is not how I want to start my day.”

Eliot smirked at her. “Me either, darlin’. But I needed a favor. He’s got our plane tickets.”

She stood up and picked the blanket up off of the floor. She threw it over the back of the chair as she spoke. “Plane tickets? We’re flying somewhere?”

“Just for a couple of days. I thought you might could use a change of scene,” he told her. “So, get ready and then pack for the beach. I’ve got enough time now that I can still make you breakfast.”

She smiled brightly at him and crossed the room. She wrapped her arms around his neck once she reached him. “Breakfast and a beach trip? Wow, what’s this about?”

“Just wanted to get you out of this apartment, and let you see a little bit of the country you worked so hard to get back to,” he told her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest. “If that’s okay with you.”

She kissed him quickly before she answered. “Sounds perfect.”

He brought one hand up to the side of her face and gently ran his thumb across her cheek. “Thank you for trusting me last night, by the way.”

Her smile turned nervous for a split second before her eyes bored into his. These eyes were wide open and vulnerable. They were more honest than he’d ever seen them and it nearly knocked the wind out of him.

“I always trust you, Eliot,” she said with a warm smile. “Whether or not I tell you about my past has nothing to do with you. You know that right?” 

“I know,” he told her. “But you told me something big last night. That means something.”

“And you told me _anything_ about your past. That’s pretty big too,” she said with a teasing grin. “We’re even.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes at her. “Funny.”

“I do mean that, though,” she said seriously. “Neither of us talk about our pasts so for us to have disclosed anything to each other is big enough. I don’t need any thank you as long as we’re willing to listen to each other.”

“Anytime you wanna talk, darlin’,” he promised as he placed a kiss on her temple.

“Good,” she said with a soft smile. “Okay, I’m gonna go shower and change clothes while I still have time.”

“And pack,” he reminded her as she walked away.

“And pack!” She called over her shoulder. “I wasn’t expecting to use my new swim suits so soon after I bought them. This’ll be fun.”

Oh, he had no doubt it would be. If he remembered correctly, Claire wore swimsuits very well. _Very well_.


	4. Getaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot takes Claire on a weekend getaway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, originally Nantucket was going to be one chapter. But Claire and Eliot refused that idea. So here's the first part of the Nantucket weekend. Enjoy!  
> Happy reading!  
> angellwings

 

 

“What took you so long, man? I said two hours. It’s been two and a half,” Hardison said as Eliot and Claire walked through the door.

“What? Did we take you away from your elf friends?” Eliot asked bitingly.

“Orcs. They’re orcs,” Hardison clarified as he rolled his eyes. “And yes. I’ve been A-F-K for over half an hour now.”

Claire’s brow furrowed at him and she gave Eliot a questioning glance. “A-F-K?”

Eliot shrugged and shook his head. “I never know what the hell he’s talking about. Don’t look at me.”

“A-F—Away from keyboard! I need better friends,” Hardison said with a shake of his head.

Claire gave the younger man a smirk. “Aw, Hardison. I didn’t know we were friends. That’s sweet.”

“We’re not—I don’t trust you even the tiniest bit, Arm Candy. We’re not friends. You’re Eliot’s friend, or whatever the hell the two of you are, so I’ll put up with you. But that’s as far as it goes,” Hardison said plainly. There was no malice in his tone. Just plain honesty. She could appreciate that.

“You wouldn’t be a criminal if you trusted me,” she said with a grin and a shrug. “And don’t worry. The feeling’s mutual.”

“Do you have the tickets or not?” Eliot asked with an expectant look.

Hardison slid an envelope across the table. “Plane tickets, rental car reservation, and hotel confirmation. I’m assuming you didn’t think about where you would actually stay on this whirlwind weekend getaway.”

He was right. Eliot had forgotten that part. “Thanks, man.”

“I still say there are a lot better places you could go for a romantic weekend than Nantucket but—“

“Hardison!” Eliot said with a glare and a sneer.

“What?” He asked cluelessly.

Claire smiled brightly at Eliot and leaned into him before she spoke excitedly. “Nantucket? We’re going to Nantucket?”

“It was supposed to be a _surprise_ ,” Eliot said as he continued to glare at Hardison.

“Oh hell no, you’re actually excited about that?” Hardison asked Claire in disbelief. “Do you know how many beaches there are in the world? Many much better than—“

“I’ve never been there before!” She said as she kissed Eliot’s cheek quickly and ignored Hardison. “Thank you.”

“You know, I’m the one who made the arrangements. Anybody gonna thank me?” Hardison asked in an irritated tone.

“Eliot did or did you miss that part?” Claire told Hardison with a smirk. “But since you would have sent us off to Spain or somewhere, were it your choice, I’m going to thank _him_. Because I’ve been to Spain and Australia and Brazil and half a dozen tropical islands but I’ve never been to Nantucket. It’s new and exciting. Besides, we’re not friends and you don’t trust me. I am under no obligation to thank you.”

“Let me commend you on your choice of dates. She’s a charmer,” Hardison told Eliot with a dry expression.

Eliot leaned back in the booth and flashed Hardison half of a grin before his eyes lingered on a Claire appreciatively. “You have no idea.”

Hardison rolled his eyes at him and stood from the booth. “And with that my job here is done. Your flight leaves in 90 minutes. Don’t miss it and make my magic meaningless.”

Claire watched him go with a grin and then chuckled as Hardison slammed the door behind him. “He’s a bit pissy, huh?”

Eliot laughed and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but it just makes him fun to mess with.”

She opened the envelope and glanced at the tickets. “He is good, though. I’ll give him that. So, Nantucket?” She asked Eliot as she turned an excited smile on him.

“It’s close by and I told you we’d go exploring outside of Boston. It made sense,” he told her with a nod.

“Well, thank you,” she said with a soft smile as she scooted out of the booth. “I’m excited.”

He chuckled softly and then followed her out of the booth as he spoke. “I thought you might be.”

His idea had been the right one because her mood was significantly brighter than he’d seen it since he’d been back from San Lorenzo. She needed a change of scene, if only for a couple of days. The drive to the airport, the flight, and the drive to the hotel were all uneventful. Four hours after meeting Hardison at the bar they were checking in to a cozy waterside bed and breakfast that looked homey and comfortable. It reminded him of some of the larger farm houses he’d grown up around back home. Much better than some of the hotels they stayed in for different jobs that were typically so modern and cold.

“This is beautiful,” Claire told the girl in the office as they checked in.

“Thank you,” she said with a pleasant smile. “The owner moved here from North Carolina six years ago and remodeled the whole place. Before him this was just a beat up run down shack.”

Eliot glanced to Claire when her home state was mentioned and his mouth twitched into a small smile when her eyes shone eagerly.

“North Carolina?” She asked.

“Yeah, he had a bed and breakfast there too for a while, but he says the tourism industry is better here,” the girl told her with a shrug.

Recognition flashed across Claire’s eyes as she spotted a picture on the wall behind the desk. “Is that him?” she asked as she pointed to the photo. It was a picture of a man and a woman standing in front of a large sail boat.

“Yeah, that’s him. Mr. Shauffner.”

“Somebody say my name?” A voice asked from behind them. Eliot and Claire turned to find the face from the photo smiling at them easily. His eyes widened when his glance fell on Claire and for a moment Eliot saw something wistful cross his face. He stared at Claire for a long moment and that’s when Eliot knew something was up.

He was missing something.

“You look just like an old friend of mine,” Mr. Shauffner said as he finally stopped staring. “But it’s been too long for her to still be your age. It’s astonishing how much you resemble her though.”

There was a struggle displayed on Claire’s face for a brief moment before she held her hand out for a shake. “I’m … _Claire_.” She said as she gave the older man a look that meant something. Eliot couldn’t be sure what but it almost seemed like she was encouraging this man to remember something.

She had to be or else she wouldn’t have used her real name.

“No,” Mr. Shauffner said with a skeptical grin. “That can’t be. The woman I knew had a daughter named Claire.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, she did. A daughter who’s been told quite frequently that she looks just like her mother.”

“You’re Ronnie’s daughter?” He asked in an excited but disbelieving tone. “God, the last time I saw you, you were…what? Ten years old?”

“Probably,” Claire said with a pleasant smile.

“Next time I came to town you and your mom weren’t around. Everette said she took you and moved to California,” Mr. Shauffner said with a sad smile. “Didn’t even get to say goodbye. How’s Ronnie, anyway?”

If Eliot didn’t already know Claire hadn’t spoken to her mother in years he never would have guessed from the way she responded to his question. She didn’t flinch or hesitate.

“Oh, you know mom,” she said with a chuckle. “Always out there exploring. Last I heard she was in Europe somewhere.”

“Well, tell her I said hi and to come by and visit anytime, okay?” Mr. Shauffner asked with a warm smile.

“Will do,” Claire said with a nod.

“Small world,” He said with a chuckle. “Of all the places you could have stayed on this island you ended up here.”

Eliot suddenly pictured Hardison making the reservations and got the feeling that it wasn’t as much of a coincidence as it seemed. Mr. Shauffner suddenly turned to him and smiled brightly.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t gotten your name yet, son,” Mr. Shauffner said as he held out a hand for a handshake.

“Chapel,” he said with a friendly smile as he shook the man’s hand. “Roy Chapel.” Claire’s alias might be blown but his wasn’t.

“Well, Mr. Chapel, you two have fun. You be good to her, alright? If she’s anything like her mother you’re gonna want to keep her around for a while,” Mr. Shauffner told him as he turned and winked at Claire. “I’ve got a meeting at the Chamber of Commerce just now but I’ll see you both around.” Mr. Shauffner looked at the girl behind the desk. “They get the royal treatment, got that, Felicia? She’s a hometown girl.”

Felicia chuckled at him and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Mr. Shauffner waved and then left them all alone again. The look on Claire’s face as he left was blank and impassive like she didn’t really know what to think or feel about this latest turn of events. Neither did Eliot really. He’d learned more about Claire’s past in that brief conversation than in the entire seven years he’d known her. Felicia showed them to their room and when the door was closed behind them Claire sat down on the large comfortable bed and kicked her shoes off.

“Next time I see Hardison,” she said with a deep breath and a deceptive air of calm. “I’m gonna kill him. He did not just _happen_ to pick this place.”

“Anything I need to worry about with that guy?” Eliot asked her in concern. He didn’t know what the connection to Mr. Shauffner was but if it was going to put Claire in danger he’d kill Hardison himself.

“No,” she said dismissively. “He was a boyfriend of my mother’s for a while. She squeezed every bit of money she could out of him. He has no idea that she didn’t care about anything else. He’s harmless. In fact, of all her marks he was probably the one that was the nicest to me. I have nothing but pleasant memories of him. So, I think we’re fine. I would just rather not have run into my past unexpectedly. Plus, this means you’re little hacker buddy is snooping around and I’m not okay with that.”

“Sorry, darlin’,” Eliot said with a sigh as he sat down next to her. “Not much I can do to stop him. If I threaten him he’ll do it anyway. After what we just went through with Moreau he probably feels we can’t be too careful.”

“I don’t care so much about him gathering the information as I do about his willingness to throw it in my face,” she said with a stern expression as she stared at the carpet. “Harmless or not, I don’t appreciate being ambushed.”

That he understood completely. Hardison may have seen it as a joke, a way to mess with Claire, but it wasn’t particularly funny. Not to Claire and not to Eliot. “I’ll talk to him when we get back.” He nudged her gently to get her attention before he continued. “For now, let’s go find lunch. I’m starving.”

She nodded. “Let me change first. It’s warmer out there than I expected.” She turned and placed a slow kiss on Eliot’s lips before she pulled back and smiled warmly at him. “This was still a wonderful idea, Spencer. Thank you. I promise I won’t let this ruin the trip.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed her once more for good measure before she began to look through her bag for a change of clothes.

She changed into a lightweight strappy sundress and sandals and then they set off for town. They parked along the sidewalk of the main street that ran through the small beach town where all the local shops and restaurants were and then they went exploring hand in hand.

“This place is so cute,” Claire said as she looked around the street. “It reminds me of New Bern back home. We used to go there once every summer with my grandparents. It’s on the water too. It had about fifty times the humidity of this place but it had the same vibe this island does.”

“Local involvement always makes a place better,” Eliot told her in agreement. “And I am all for local restaurants outnumbering franchises.” He spotted a restaurant up ahead that looked like a good casual place to get lunch. It reminded him of a classic diner and he was pleased to see that the menu reflected that. He stopped when they reached it and turned to look at Claire questioningly. “How’s this?”

She nodded at him with a playful grin. “If you think it looks good then I’m up for it. You’re the food guy. I defer to you.”

He chuckled and led her inside. “You defer to me, huh?” He asked teasingly. "That never happens.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t get used to it if I were you,” she said with a smirk as they stopped at the hostess station to get a table.

Eliot wanted to ask about some of the other things Shauffner had mentioned in that short conversation. He’d mentioned her mother had moved them to California and by the sound of it she hadn’t lived in North Carolina since she was, at most, eleven. Shauffner didn’t live in her home town because he mentioned coming “ _back_ to town”. So where did he travel to and from? And then Claire had said he was “one” of her mother’s marks. And it was interesting that she’d used the work “mark” instead of boyfriend. Did her mother often con men from their own home town? On her own home turf? That was risky for anyone no matter how good you were. But he didn’t ask these things because he knew that Claire would bring them up if she wanted to talk about them. She hadn’t so he assumed she didn’t.

She never pressed him for more information than he wanted to give so he was going to return the favor. Even if he was curious as hell.


	5. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peace and quiet of the weekend away is momentarily interupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost did not have this chapter finished today. I've been working on things for The Librarians fic week that starts this sunday and totally neglected this for a few days. Have no fear, though, I finished it right on time! It might be a bit shorter than the last few chapters, but it's done! That being said, there's a little hiccup of trouble in this chapter so I think it's pretty full emotionally. Things were too quiet I had to shake it up! Thanks again to all my readers and commenters! Hope you like this chapter!  
> Happy reading!  
> angellwings

 

The rest of the day had been amazingly uneventful and Claire and himself had relaxed into it. After lunch they went and enjoyed the beach for the afternoon. He was right. Claire knew how to wear a swimsuit very well. She’d bought a simple black bikini and she looked damn good in it. They’d wasted the afternoon soaking in the sun and splashing around in the water. She’d even convinced him to build a sand castle with her. He hadn’t done that since he was a kid. It was an afternoon that felt oddly normal and that was full of laughter. It was a welcome change for both of them.

They came back to the room covered in sand and both took showers before changing clothes for dinner. He planned to take her out for a nice dinner. She broke out one of her new cocktail dresses that Tara had helped her pick out and completely floored him. It was red, short, and strapless. All things that were very appealing on her. As a result they left for dinner a little later than he’d initially planned. But the delay was well worth it if he did say so himself.

Dinner had been delicious and Eliot was very impressed with the local restaurants and the quality of their food. He’d caught Claire smiling fondly at him more than once as he gushed about certain items on both of their plates. Now, they were at a local bar for after dinner drinks. They were sitting at a small elevated table near the actual bar. Eliot had a beer. It was a local brew that he’d never had before and Claire had a cocktail of some kind that he didn’t recognize.

It was really unnerving how absolutely ordinary all of this felt. The calm left him paranoid because his life wasn’t ordinary and too much calm usually meant trouble was on the horizon. And if the way Claire was nervously wringing her hands was any indication she was thinking the exact same thing.

“This is weird,” Eliot finally said. “Nice, but weird.”

“You mean the fact that we’ve had nearly three days without anyone trying to kill either of us?” She asked him with a smirk.

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean,” he said with a chuckle.

“It’s very weird,” she agreed. “I sort of feel like I’m living someone else’s life right now, honestly. Or…”

“Or what?” He asked when she stopped abruptly.

“Or that this is what my life could have been like if I’d never become a grifter,” she said honestly as she leaned into him a bit more. His arm was around the back of her chair and the hand that rested by her shoulder gently caressed the side of it as she spoke.

“If you’d never been a grifter we wouldn’t have met, sweetheart,” he said as he leaned toward her ear to whisper.

She blushed and turned to smile softly at him. She brought a hand up to his face and traced a thumb over his cheek. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

He shook his head and then turned to place a quick kiss on the palm of the hand that had caressed his face so lovingly. Then he met her blue eyes with his own and answered her, “No we can’t.”

There was movement over by the bar and Claire’s eyes drifted from his. “Isn’t that Felicia from front desk?” She asked as she motioned to the bar with a nod of her head. He followed her gaze to see Felicia with a young man leaning into her personal space. Felicia did not appear to be enjoying his attention but that didn’t stop the man from leering at her. The man’s hand moved over Felicia’s drink to pay the bartender and he felt Claire tense next to him. She’d noticed something that he'd missed. Felicia then grabbed her drink and moved to the far corner of the bar but the young man’s eyes never left her. Claire cursed and then turned back to Eliot.

“I’ll be right back,” she said with a sigh. “Watch my drink.”

She left the table before he could ask her what she was up to. He watched as she approached Felicia and started a friendly conversation after a second or two Claire tripped over her own feet and appeared to accidentally knock the drink out of Felicia’s hand. The contents of the drink spilled completely onto the bar and Claire apologized and ordered Felicia a replacement drink. He noticed Claire made sure to accept the drink directly from the bar tender before handing it to Felicia. Felicia nodded her thanks and then moved away from the bar completely.

Eliot assumed that would be the end of it but Claire didn’t come back. No, instead she moved to the stool that Felicia had occupied and ordered herself a drink. The young man did the same thing to Claire. He leaned way in to talk to her and he even touched her shoulder once or twice. Eliot’s hands clenched into fists but he stayed put. He didn’t know what she was up to and he didn’t want to blow it for her. She shot the young man down as the bar tender brought Claire’s drink and another beer for the man next to her. He pulled the same move and started to reach _over_ Claire’s drink to accept a napkin from the bar tender.

But Claire’s hand shot out and caught the man’s wrist before he could. She focused a glare on him and then tapped the man’s closed fist with her other hand. He couldn’t hear what she was saying to him but the man eventually opened his hand to reveal a small pill. Eliot tensed even more. That’s what she’d seen that he hadn’t. The jackass had attempted to drug Felicia. Claire looked at the bar tender who had been watching the two of them closely and said something else. As the bar tender reached for the phone the man broke his wrist out of Claire’s grasp and ran. Claire looked over at Eliot and gave him a small apologetic smile.

He sighed in resignation and reached the door just ahead of the man from the bar and quickly held out his arm to stop him. The man’s chest and shoulders hit Eliot’s arm at a high speed. He crumpled to the ground with a whimper as Eliot clotheslined him. Eliot yanked the man up by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back over to the bar. He tried to run again but Eliot rolled his eyes and shoved him back down on the bar stool.

“Sit your ass down and don’t move,” Eliot said with a growl.

“You can’t hold me here,” the man yelled angrily.

“The hell we can’t,” Claire said with a livid glare of her own as she came to stand beside of Eliot. “You’re going to stay right where you are until the authorities get here and then you can explain to them why you tried to drug not one but two women in this bar tonight. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you’re a bitch,” the man muttered. “That’s what it sounds like.”

Claire laughed but kept a cool gaze on the lowlife in front of her. “You better believe it. I’ve got a right to be a bitch to any man who tries to drug me.”

The man opened his mouth to speak again but Eliot quirked a brow at him and tightened his grip on the man’s shirt collar. The man promptly shut his mouth.

“Yeah, shutting up is the best option you have right now. Unless you want to find out what would happen to you if you talk to her like that one more time,” Eliot said threateningly.

They only had to wait a few more minutes for the cops to arrive. They took the man into custody, Claire gave a quick statement to the police, and then Claire and Eliot decided to leave the bar. Everyone was aware of their presence now and kept staring. Having a room full of people watching you shamelessly was unnerving. Once they were out on the sidewalk, Claire slipped her arm through Eliot’s.

“Sorry about that,” she said with a sigh. “Once I saw what he was doing I couldn’t just let him get away with it.”

“No need to apologize. I would’ve done the same thing. ‘Course, my way would have been a lot louder and involved a lot more screaming but your way worked too,” Eliot said as he leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. “How did you spot that, by the way? I've got good eyes and even I missed that the first time around.”

“I’ve seen it enough to recognize it,” she said in a regretful tone. “The men in Moreau’s crew were not _nice_ men. They were more the  ‘take what I can and give nothing back’ kind. Chapman and Moreau let them get away with a lot more after you left. I couldn’t do anything about it without blowing my cover so I had to watch it happen and keep my mouth shut. But I didn’t have to keep my mouth shut tonight. No way was I going to watch that play out again.”

He could feel the guilt and the shame rolling off of her. They probably added to the victims she undoubtedly saw in her nightmares, he thought. Often times, it the things you don’t speak up about that weigh you down the most. She was an accomplice by association. She stopped walking and when he turned to look at her he found her sitting on a public bench with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking slightly as he settled down next to her and pulled her into his arms.

She let out a bitter soggy chuckle before she spoke again and hesitantly looked up at him. “Wow, I _am_ a monster. I just let that happen under my nose for my own selfish survival. I should’ve stopped them and damned the consequences. Those women were all hurt because I did nothing to stop it. I— _oh god_. Nothing I do is ever going to make that right. Nothing.”

He gave her an understanding look and then gently brushed her hair out of her face. “I hate to be the one to remind you of this, darlin’,” he said softly as he made sure to keep her eyes focused on his. “But _you’re_ a victim, too. I know you don’t like to think of it that way and I don’t much blame you, but you are.” She attempted to pull away from him but he refused to let her. She needed to hear this. She needed someone to say it and it was going to have to be him. “You were hurt too. And I can see just how deep that hurt goes. You had no good options. You did the best with what you had. That’s all anyone can ask of you. You’re a damn strong woman, Claire, but there are some things that you can’t fix and some people that you can’t save. The people who hurt those girls, they’re the ones responsible. Don’t put the blame entirely on your shoulders. It’ll crush you if you let it.” He pressed his forehead to hers and watched her close her eyes. Tear tracks were already covering her cheeks and she wrapped her arms around him even tighter. “You deserve as much concern as anyone else he hurt, sweetheart. You really do.”

He pulled her up from the bench and held her tight against his side as they walked back to where he’d parked the car. She cried the whole drive back to the bed and breakfast but she wasn’t shaking with sobs and she was able to breathe. That was a step forward. He had a feeling tonight would be a bad night for her though. He’d never wished he could take on someone else’s pain more than he did at this very moment. He would gladly take all of this on for her if he could.

But healing didn’t work that way. They only thing he could do is be there to offer her support when she needed it. No matter how much it killed him to watch her suffer.

When they made it back to the room she didn’t bother to change clothes. She simply pulled her heels off and then collapsed into the bed with her face in the pillows. He followed her lead and pulled her out of the pillows to rest against his chest. His instinct about her having a rough night had been completely accurate. She’d tossed and turned and whimpered and woke up gasping for air more than once. She’d finally fallen in a deep sleep at about four in the morning. The minute her breathing deepened and her muscles relaxed against him was the minute he was finally able to get some sleep himself.

They both slept a very long time. Longer than his body typically allowed him to sleep. There were lots of reasons he only slept for an hour and a half. Most of them had to do with his own nightmares, but he also felt the need to keep an eye out for any enemies. Sleeping left you vulnerable and even though most nights it was unlikely he would be discovered he refused to take the chance. Yet, here lately, while sharing a bed with Claire he’d been sleeping much longer than he was accustomed. He hadn’t decided whether that was healthy for him or a weakness that could be exploited. He, of course, woke up before her and discovered he’d been asleep five hours. That was the longest night of sleep he’d gotten in years. At first he was convinced the alarm clock on the bedside table was wrong. It had to be. And then he’d found his watch next to it and confirmed that the time was correct. It was 9 AM. He still had Claire cradled against his chest and his arm that she had her weight leaning against was numb and tingly. He sighed and kissed the top of her head. If he were honest he really didn’t want to get up just yet. He liked lying next to Claire in the quiet. It felt comfortable and normal. He hadn’t had much of either in a very longer time. Longer than he cared to admit. He reluctantly slid out of bed and decided to go for a run on the beach. He felt as if he’d been lazy too long and he needed to do something

The run left him plenty of time to think about Claire. He still wasn’t sure what he ultimately wanted out of this. She was leaving when the two weeks were over. Did that mean that whatever this was between them would be over? And what exactly was this? He’d never been one to label relationships, especially after Aimee, and he wasn’t sure what he and Claire had really needed a label to begin with. Nothing in either of their lives had ever fit in a label. Why would that change now? But he did know one thing that he felt he should tell her. One thing that he’d avoided telling her for the two years they'd both been with Moreau because he was afraid of how vulnerable it would make him. Something she’d never admitted to him either. In a way, he knew she felt it. He could see it sometimes in the way she looked at him. But, again, this seemed to fall under that same ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy they’d stumbled into. Before the two weeks were over he wanted to be able to say he’d been honest with her about his feelings, at least. He doubted it would change her plans, but at least she’d know. She’d know that whatever else happened there would always be someone out there who loved her. With everything she’d been through she deserved that.

Now he just had to get up the nerve to say it.


	6. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a little fun in the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to post! I focused on Librarians Fanfic Week a couple of weeks ago and then took this week off to recover. BUT here is an update for you guys! And it's all fluff and happiness! Thanks for reading and reviewing! Please enjoy!  
> angellwings

 

When he got back to the room, he found the bed empty and heard the water running. Claire must be in the shower. He looked at the clock beside the bed again and realized he’d been gone for an hour and a half. Breakfast would be over in the dining room downstairs by now. There was a knock at the door and Eliot tensed. Who would be knocking on their door? Did Claire order room service? He hesitantly answered the door to find Felicia standing there with a smile.

“Hi,” she said with a sheepish smile. “Is Claire here?”

“She’s in the shower,” Eliot told her with an impassive expression.

Felicia handed him a tray of breakfast food before she spoke again. “I was just coming by to thank her for what she did last night. I didn’t realized what had happened until I saw the cops dragging that lowlife out of the bar. Can you tell her I came by?”

Eliot smiled softly at her and nodded. “I’ll let her know. Thanks for breakfast, by the way. We haven’t had time to come downstairs yet.”

“You're welcome. I thought that might be the case. I had the chef make up a couple of omelets for you guys. See you later, Mr. Chapel,” Felicia said with a thankful smile before she turned and started to walk away.

He closed the door as she left and set the tray down on the table by the window. He knocked on the bathroom door and heard the water stop.

“Eliot?”

“Yeah, I’m back,” he answered her. “Felicia brought breakfast by for us as a thank you for last night.”

“She did? Okay, I’ll be out in a minute,” she said just before the water came back on.

A few minutes later the bathroom door opened and Claire stepped out in a fluffy robe tied at her waist. He watched for a moment as she towel dried her hair. When she finished she threw the towel behind her onto the bathroom floor and then gave him a challenging smirk. His eyes darted between her and the towel before he gave her an exasperated look.

“It’s just _killing_ you, isn’t it?” She asked teasingly as she pulled a wide thick toothed comb out of her travel case that was sitting on the bed. “The wet towel on the tile floor is absolutely torturing you,” she said knowingly as she sat down the bed and watched him with an amused smirk while she combed her long wet hair.

She was right. It was killing him. The towel wouldn’t dry and the floor would be wet. A wet tile floor was a feeling his feet did not enjoy. He huffed at her and then snatched the towel up off the floor. She laughed as she finished combing her hair and then followed him into the bathroom. She wrapped her arms around him from behind as he reached up to hang up the towel. He finished hanging it and then turned while still in her arms.

“You’re adorable,” she told him with a smirk as she lifted herself onto her toes to place a quick kiss on his nose. She started to pull away but he locked his arms around her waist and held her tightly against him.

She grinned at him but wrinkled her nose in disgust as she noticed his sweaty shirt. “You’re all sweaty and I _just_ took a shower.”

“Hey, you started it, darlin’,” he said with a smirk. He leaned down and rubbed his wet face in the crook of her neck. She squirmed and squealed but couldn’t pull away.

“Gross, Eliot! So _gross_!”

“Then I guess you’ll have to shower again, _with me_ this time,” Eliot said with a lop-sided grin and a single quirked eye brow.

“That so?” She asked with a chuckle. “Was that your genius plan all along?”

“Just because I’m the muscle doesn’t mean I can’t have some truly brilliant ideas,” he told her with a wink.

“Oh, I have no doubt when it concerns your brilliance, Spencer. Trust me on that one,” she said with a warm smile. “But let’s hold off on that shower in favor of breakfast. I’m starving,” she told him. “And I’m a little afraid we might let it get cold,” she said with a slow sinful smirk.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned up on her toes again, and then kissed him slowly. There was want, passion, need, and…something else that felt a bit like gratitude in the kisses that followed. He didn’t hesitate to return every single one of those sentiments. He lifted her easily and set her down on the bathroom counter without breaking the kiss for a single moment. He tugged at the sash on the robe and loosened it enough to pull the robe off of her shoulders. He transferred his kisses from her lips to her jaw and then down further to the crook of her neck. The feeling of his rapidly beating heart and the sound her ragged breathing only added to the heat in the air around them. She arched against him as he softly grazed the hollow above her collar bone with his teeth and then gently nipped at it.

Her breathing hitched and she placed a hand on either side of his face and used her hold to pull his lips back to hers. She let out a short whine as the kiss deepened and then wrapped her legs around his waist. He tightened his hold on her and lifted her again. This time he walked her them out of the bathroom and laid her down on the bed. She sat up on her elbows and grinned at him with a flushed face as he broke away from her and pulled his shirt over his head. He tossed it aside and eagerly returned to thoroughly kissing her. Between her being pressed against him in the bathroom and carrying her to the bed, her sash came untied and the robe fell open. His hands slipped under the robe and wrapped around her. He had one hand on her bare back, pressing her closer to him, and one resting on her stomach absently tracing a soft line with his thumb.

They pulled apart as she reached for the waist of his basketball shorts and she chuckled before she spoke in a low voice, “so much for breakfast.”

“Darlin’, I’d pick you over breakfast any day,” Eliot told her with a wide grin. He wondered if she realized just how much of a compliment that was. Because while Eliot really loved food he didn’t love it more than her.

* * *

 

By lunchtime Eliot finally made it to the shower _with Claire_ , of course. It was safe to say that they ran out of hot water long before they managed to get any _actual_ showering done. The breakfast Felicia brought them sat cold, but not completely forgotten on the table in the room. Claire sat down at the table that face their small balcony after combing her hair for the second time that day.

She frowned at the tray. “I feel bad we never got to eat breakfast. It was so nice of her to bring it by.”

Eliot sat down in the chair next to her and she immediately turned in the chair and placed her legs across his lap. “Us not getting to eat it doesn’t change the thought behind the gesture,” he told her as he rested his hands on her shapely bare legs. “Lunch is on it’s way,” he said before he could forget. “So, what do we want to do today?” he asked. 

“More of this,” she told him as she pointed between them with an affectionate smile. “And a little of that,” she said as she pointed passed the balcony to the beach. “And dinner here. I’ve had enough of going out for one weekend,” she said honestly.

They ate lunch in their room in the same positions, with her legs slung over Eliot’s lap as they sat side-by-side. After lunch they went back out to the beach and Eliot decided this was his first true glimpse of who Claire was before him. Her wavy wind blown hair was tied up in to a pony tail that was pulled through the back of a Nantucket Island ball cap she’d bought on their first day. Her bikini was dark purple and her cover up was a simple pair of denim cut off shorts. She wore a pair of aviator sunglasses on her face and cheap flip-flops on her feet. Despite being stuck overseas for over ten years, she reminded him of some of the girls he’d grown up with: a lot of fun and a little wild with a touch of comfort thrown in.

Her people skills were more honed than his, always had been.  Within half an hour of being on the beach she’d talked her way into a beach volleyball game hosted by a vacationing group of fraternity brothers. Eliot rolled his eyes and watched her in amusement as she manipulated her way to victory. Those boys were no match for Claire, who’d successfully faced off against mercenaries, criminals, and mob bosses. He chose not to point out the lack of challenge her chosen mark presented. She was having far too much fun for him to tease at the moment.

The volleyball game ended and she came running over to him with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin and handed him one of the two beers she’d gotten out of the group of college boys. She turned and waved to them and they all looked crest-fallen at the sight of Eliot.

“You look like you’re having fun,” He said with a smirk.

“Oh, lots of it,” she said with a smile. “I single handedly won that game for my team. Every guy on the other team was sufficiently distracted.”

“Uh huh,” he said as she stepped into his side and put an arm around his waist. “And all of that work for what? A couple of beers?”

“And the pride of a job well done,” she said with a laugh as he wrapped an around her back and they walked back to the spot where they’d left their towels. They sat down on their towels and slowly sipped her victory beers. He had himself propped up with his hands and she leaned her back against him as they both people watched in silence.

They both spotted a group of young kids with kites and Eliot smiled softly.  They all looked to be around the ages nine to eleven and having a blast. He assumed their parents were camped out somewhere on the same beach.

“I got a couple of nephews about that age,” he told her as he motioned to the group of kids. “Haven’t seen ‘em in a couple of years, though. My sister’s married to a Marine. Last I heard they were in Japan.”

He didn’t even have to think about whether or not he should tell Claire that. It just happened. It felt right and good and natural. He surprised himself with how easy it was to tell her that.

“You miss them?” She asked as she sat up and turned to face him.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Well, a lot of the time. But it’s better that way, I think. They’re less likely to be in danger because of me if they’re far away from me. You know?”

She nodded and smiled sadly at him. “I know. Are they anything like you were as a kid?” she asked with a smirk. “I’d imagine you were a trouble making quarterback type.”

He chuckled at her and nodded. “Pretty on the nose, actually.”

“I never went to high school,” she told him. She smiled softly at him before she continued, “But I have an uncle who you remind me of sometimes. So, I imagine the two of you played a similar role in high school.”

“I remind you of your uncle? I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he said with a smirk.

She smacked him playfully and rolled her eyes. “Occasionally. You _occasionally_ remind me of him. I think you’d like him, actually. I’m less certain that he’d like you.” She said with a teasing wink. “You’re trouble with a capital ‘t’.”

“Not gonna question that,” he told her with a chuckle.

“It’s a good thing for you that I actually _like_ trouble,” she told him as she leaned forward and kissed him quickly.

“Never would have guessed,” he said dryly as he pulled her in for another kiss.

She laughed and kissed him one more time before she finished her beer and then stood up. “Well, I don’t know about you,” she told him. “But I’m going for a swim.” She shimmied off her shorts and tossed a wink at him as she ran off toward the waves. He pulled his hair back before chasing after her. Even five years ago they’d never been able to be this free and open with each other. Seeing this side of Claire was new for him and he was definitely enjoying it.

“Oh! Cold, cold, cold!” he heard her exclaim as she jumped into the waves.

He laughed as he caught up with her and she looked at him with a wince.

“I forgot how cold east coast water is!” She yelled with a slight shiver before she took a deep breath and then plunged herself into the water. When she came back up she beamed at him. “Much better. Your turn.”

He rolled his eyes at her and shook his head. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited to see just what she would do.

“Seriously? Is this because of your hair?” She asked teasingly. “I mean, really, it’s a glorious mane and all, but is your hair really too good for the salt water, Spencer?”

He grinned at her and gave her a challenging look. Watching Claire create a conversation from nothing had always been one of his favorite things. He used to keep his half of their conversations silent simply to annoy her. Agitated Claire was a very attractive thing for him. That probably should concern him more than it did. There was a moment of silence and he could see her analyzing her options. He knew what she would do before she did it. He centered himself just seconds before she suddenly launched herself at him and attempted to pull him into the water. He fixed a flat stare on her as she continued to try and pull him under.

“Are you kidding me with this?” He asked in a dry tone.

He hadn’t moved an inch. She didn’t have enough force in her throw to make him falter at all. It was almost laughable. Like a mouse trying to move a boulder.

She released him and then backed up to circle him and squint at him thoughtfully. She was determined, he could tell. She ducked under the water again and he had only a moment to wonder what she was up to before he felt a tickle of her fingers against the underside of his knee. He had to admit it surprised him. He fidgeted and shifted his weight instinctually, but his stance stayed firm.

She surfaced and gave him a disappointed look. He merely chuckled and shook his head in response. “That all you got?”

“Oh, I’m not done yet, Cowboy,” she said as her eyes sparkled mischievously. “I still have a few moves to play.”

He watched her curiously as she slinked toward him. That was the only word to describe it. It was a slink. A slow, sexy slink. She didn’t stop until her chest was pressed against his and she had one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck. She pressed her forehead against his and her lips hovered mere centimeters from his own. He moved to close the distance but she backed away just enough to avoid him catching her with a kiss. He was so determined to kiss her that as he leaned forward again he must have failed to notice one of her legs wrapping around his. Just as he reached her lips, she jerked her leg back across the back of his knees and they immediately buckled. He heard her laugh against his lips as he started to fall backwards and then locked his arms around her. Her squeal as she fell into the cold salt water with him was music to his ears.

They came to the surface a moment later with their arms still tangled around each other. Eliot pushed his wet hair back and then poked her side with a playful glare.

“That was a low-blow, Lanier.”

“Oh yeah? Would you say it was… _below the belt_?” She asked as she wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively and smirked.

He laughed at her and then pulled her in for a slow intrusive kiss. All of this, this whole weekend, was something they’d never had the luxury of doing. To be alone and yet completely open, to be so obviously happy with just each other’s company and not care who saw, to not have anyone watching them for signs of weakness. They’d both laughed and smiled more this weekend than they had in years. He knew it was true for him and based on the clues she’d given him he knew that was the case for her too. He pulled back from the kiss and watched her for a moment as kept her eyes closed and breathed deeply.

“Okay,” she said as her eyes fluttered open. “ _That_ was a low-blow. I was not prepared for a kiss like that,” she told him as she lightly tugged on a wet piece of his hair. “Jerk.”

He chuckled and held her tighter against him. “Couldn’t help it and for once I didn’t feel like I had to.”

She smiled warmly at him and then rested her chin against his shoulder as the held each other in calm silence for a long moment. “It is nice,” she said finally. “To not feel as if we’re being watched all the time and to feel free to just… _enjoy us_. We’ve never had a chance to do that.”

He nodded and placed a kiss on her temple. “Well, we do now.”

She lifted her head from his shoulder to give him a meaningful look. “Yes we do.”


	7. Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot and Claire are invited to dinner on Mr. Shauffner's yacht.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two songs used in this chapter later on are "I've Got You Under My Skin" by Frank Sinatra (well written by Cole Porter for a film in 1936 but more famously recorded by Sinatra) and The Bargain Store by Dolly Parton. Happy reading!
> 
> angellwings

 

They came back from the beach tired but relaxed and as they passed the office to go upstairs to their room Felicia came out of the office.

“Ms. Lanier!” She called as she followed after them.

Claire and Eliot turned and Felicia quickly approached them.

“Mr. Shauffner left this for you,” Felicia said as she handed her an envelope. “He said to call him if you can’t make it.”

Claire’s brow furrowed. “Okay. Can’t make it to what?”

She pointed at the envelope. “It’s all in there. I’ll let you two get back to your vacation.”

They turned and headed back toward the stairs. As they walked Claire opened the envelope and found a hand written note. Eliot watched her as she read it and as they reached the top of the stairs she turned give him a thoughtful look. “He wants us to have dinner with him on his boat tonight.”

“He has a boat?” Eliot asked.

“He’s from old southern money,” Claire said with a shrug. “Should we go?”

“Do you want to?” Eliot asked her curiously.

“Well, I do feel sort of bad for him. My mother strung him along for years and he was totally devoted to her. He’s a very nice man, or he was when I knew him,” she said thoughtfully.

Eliot nodded in understanding. “Then we’ll go if you want to. We were planning on a quiet dinner tonight anyway.”

“True,” she said as she turned to smile at him. She handed him the note. “You’ll need that. It has directions on it.” She glanced down at her watch. “We have an hour and a half. We should probably get ready.” She smirked and winked at him. “No distractions this time.”

“Darlin’, you started it. Don’t start anything and I won’t have to finish it, will I?” He asked her with a smirk as they reached the door to their room.

* * *

 

They parked at the marina and followed the directions to Mr. Shauffner’s boat and they paused outside of it for a brief moment.

“Boat?” Eliot asked her as he read the note again. “This is a yacht. It’s huge.”

“I told you,” she said with another shrug. “Old southern money. His family used to be in the tobacco business.  They got out with their fortune in tact in the early eighties. As far as I know all he has to do now is invest what he’s got properly. No need for him to work ever again.”

“So, he’s not just rich. He’s super rich,” Eliot said with a nod. “Dream mark for a grifter.”

“Why do you think my mother chose him?” She asked sarcastically. She took a deep fortifying breath and walked toward the yacht. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Hey,” Eliot said as he reached out an arm to stop her. “You okay?”

She turned with a shaky smile. “Yeah, I just…I’ve been trying to separate myself from my mother for nearly a decade now and I just can’t seem to escape her. Or any of my past it seems. It always finds me.”

He pulled her into his side and then kissed her temple. “We don’t have to do this, you know,” he told her. “We can still bail.”

“No,” she told him. “I should do this. As uncomfortable as facing it might make me, it might help to remember a bit of who I was before…well before _everything_.”

She busied her hands with smoothing the wrinkles on his shirt but her eyes looked nervous and uncertain. She wasn’t positive it would help but she seemed willing to risk it.

“You made it!” Mr. Shauffner exclaimed as he appeared on the deck of the yacht. “I was afraid my directions might have been unclear.” He held out a hand toward Claire to help her board the yacht. “Please, come aboard.”

The anxious nerves in her eyes immediately vanished and were replaced with confidence and warmth that he knew she didn’t feel. But if he didn’t already know that, he never would have suspected. So, tonight would be a grift of sorts for her it seemed. Only deception, not theft, was the goal. Part of it seemed to be about deceiving herself too. Shauffner looped Claire’s arm through his and escorted her to the upper deck. Eliot followed them closely.

“My staff will have dinner prepared for us in about half an hour. I thought in the mean time I would show you my music room,” he said with a kind smile. “I know how you and your mother felt about music. I assume you both still enjoy it?”

She smiled kindly at him. “Not as much as we used to, but yes.”

“That’s a shame. Hearing your family sing harmony on any song was always a beautiful sound,” he told her.

Eliot smiled slightly to himself. Of course she came from a musical family. Based on the acoustic concerts he used to hear from her when he worked for Moreau it only made sense. Mr. Shauffner opened the door to a room on the upper deck that revealed a beautifully furnished room with a piano, an expensive stereo system, and two guitars. There were several chairs placed around the room for an audience.

“Oh wow,” Claire breathed reverently. “This is gorgeous.” She released Shauffner’s arm and slowly approached the piano. She played a chord and then smiled softly. “This is a Steinway.”

He nodded with a grin. “Spared no expense. Would you like to play it?”

She turned sharply with a genuine speechless expression, which surprised Eliot. The grift seemed to have been forgotten in light of the music room around them.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. I haven’t played in years,” she said with a shake of her head. “I wouldn’t do a Steinway justice.”

“Okay,” Mr. Shauffner said with a kind smile. “If you feel that way about it then I’ll play and…you sing. And don’t tell me you can’t do that because I know better. How many of your talent competitions did your mother drag me to?”

Claire laughed lightly. “Every single one.”

“And how many of those did you win?” He asked knowingly.

Her soft expression faltered for a split second before it was replaced with an amused smile. “All but one.”

“That’s right,” Mr. Shauffner told her. He then turned to face Eliot. “I don’t know if you know this Mr. Chapel, but your girl here had the most beautiful voice in our tri-county area back home. In fact, I was told that’s why her and her mother left town. To try and make it in Hollywood.”

Eliot nodded and then smiled warmly at Claire. “I know about the voice. I didn’t know about all the awards.”

She blushed and rolled her eyes at the two of them. “There were small town talent shows. It’s not like I won Star Search or anything.”

“Your mother certainly thought you were capable of it,” Shauffner reminded her. “And I don’t think she was wrong. So, I play, you sing? Wanna give it a try?”

She bit her bottom lip hesitantly but nodded slowly after a moment. “Okay. Why the hell not?”

Mr. Shauffner smiled at her and then sat down at the piano. He patted the spot next to him and Claire sat down too. Eliot took a seat in one of the chairs close by. This would be interesting. He’d brought up his guitar to her the other night. He thought music might help her cope, the way cooking and food did for him.  But he’d yet to push it. He wasn’t sure how far he could push anything with Claire at the moment.

“Let’s start with an American Standard, shall we?” Shauffner asked her with a small smirk. “Your mom used to love this one.”

A melody started to play that Eliot recognized. Claire smiled hesitantly and nodded in recognition. “She does love Sinatra.”

Claire’s sultry voice began to sing “I’ve Got You Under my Skin” and Eliot flashbacked to all those times she’d played his guitar while sitting on the foot of his bed, years ago. They couldn’t really go out without fear of Moreau finding out about the two of them, and even back then Eliot could tell Moreau had a bit of an obsession when it came to Claire. When Eliot wasn’t doing wet work, he was supposed to keep an eye on her. And he did, but maybe he’d kept too close of an eye on her. He liked her more than he should have at the time. They both knew getting involved with Moreau constantly watching them was dangerous but they’d enjoyed each other too much to really care.

And then Moreau found them out and everything fell apart around them.

If there was ever a song that fit the two of them it was this song. He could tell Claire thought so too. She kept giving him small meaningful smiles while she sang. He could also tell she was enjoying using her voice again. He didn’t know how much she’d gotten to after he’d left, but she should always be allowed to sing. He’d never heard anyone that sounded like her. The tone of her singing voice stuck with him even when he’d been forced to leave her behind.

For the first time since they’d arrived at the yacht she looked absolutely relaxed and at ease in her surroundings. Eliot thought it was the most beautiful sight he’d seen so far this weekend. Once that song finished, he spotted Claire glance longingly at the acoustic guitar on the stand next to the piano.

She bit her bottom lip and then turned to Mr. Shauffner. “Do you mind if I—“ she cut off her question and pointed to the guitar.

Shauffner motioned to it and then grinned at her. “Be my guest.”

She picked up the guitar and moved to the chair next to Eliot. She put the strap around her and moved her long hair to one shoulder as she reached around the guitar to strum with the pick Shauffner had given her. He didn’t recognize this song, but Claire seemed to know it well. She closed her eyes and started to sing. The melody was slow and simple but strangely haunting. The weight of the words she was signing struck him hard. He knew she felt them as heavily as he did.

_“My life is likened to a bargain store, and I may have just what you’re looking for. If you don’t mind the fact that all the merchandise is used. But with a little mending it could be good as new. Now you take for instance this old broken heart. If you will just replace the missing part, you would be surprised to find how good it really is. Take it and you will never be sorry that you did. The bargain store is open, come inside. You can easily afford the price. Love is all you need to purchase all the merchandise. And I can guarantee you’ll be completely satisfied.”_

There was another verse and another chorus that she sang with her eyes completely closed. The meaning of the song and the words related to him as much as they related to her and he knew that was why they complimented each other so well. They had their pasts and their demons and the things they wished to forget. They had those moments they’d _never_ be able to forget. Their baggage was dark and heavy and twisted but they both now realized they weren’t stuck with that baggage forever. It could be possible to let it go and move passed it. Their future was not set in stone.

Granted, Eliot didn’t think he could ever redeem himself and he knew Claire thought the same thing about herself. But they could help other people redeem themselves, they could keep their hands from being any dirtier than they already were. And, for the first time, Eliot realized they could do that together. He just needed Claire to see that too.

Shauffner played a few more tunes that both he and Claire occasionally sang along with. Shauffner threw out a few more facts about her mother that Eliot made sure to file away. He’d also mentioned that he’d been good friends with her uncle. There had been several things that had come out tonight that painted a very different picture than he’d always imagined of Claire and her mother. If you went by what Shauffner thought of them then Claire and her mother had been a happy little family, but Eliot knew better. He heard it in her voice during those rare moments she mentioned her mother. He knew there was more to it than this fairy tale picture he was hearing about tonight.

And after that dinner was ready. The conversation was mundane but not uninteresting. Claire had been right. Mr. Shauffner was harmless. He was a lonely rich man who simply wanted to talk about better days and old friends. Eliot actually found himself liking the man. He was kind and seemed to genuinely care about people. Which, in Eliot’s experience, was rare in someone who had as much money as Mr. Shauffner did.

After dinner there were drinks and light conversation where Eliot was asked what he did for a living and resulted in him regaling the man with cover story Hardision had created for Roy Chapel a few years back. And had led to he and Claire having to improvise a story about how they’d met. They’d somehow come up with a story that they’d met while he was doing press in Japan. Baseball was hugely popular in Japan and even minor league players were considered celebrities. Claire, it seemed, had decided to spin the tale that she was a back up singer for various musicians. It fit with what Shauffner already knew of her and explained her traveling and why she’d been gone for so long. So, they’d met in Japan while they were both working. When asked Eliot had used the date of the day he’d met her for the first time as a reference for how long Roy had known Claire. It was the easiest date to remember.

The small talk continued as Shauffner walked them off the yacht at the end of the night.

“You kids enjoy the rest of your honeymoon,” He’d said as they stepped onto the dock.

There was a shocked silence that fell between the two of them as they exchanged looks that silently debated whether or not to correct him.

“You didn’t think I knew, did you?” Shauffner asked with a chuckle. “Your reservation listed Mr. and Mrs. Chapel and based on how caught up in each other the two of you are—well, it just made sense.”

Claire gave Eliot a look that was both resigned and amused before she chuckled and then smiled shyly at Mr. Shauffner. Apparenlty, they were going with the flow on this one.

“It wasn’t something we really planned to do,” Claire told him. “It was a last minute decision.”

“Ah, guess Chapel, here, knows a good thing when he’s got it then, huh?” Shauffner asked Eliot with a grin.

Eliot laughed and nodded before he put an arm around Claire’s waist. “Yes, sir.”

“We should take a photo to commemorate the occasion,” Shauffner said as he pulled out his phone. He stepped off the yacht and then shuffled Eliot and Claire until they stood with the yacht and the name of the yacht behind them. “Good, right there.” It happened so quickly that Eliot hadn’t even thought that maybe it wasn’t a good idea for this man to have either of their faces on his phone. He and Claire both were wanted people in certain areas of the world. “Beautiful,” Shauffner said as he snapped the photo and then pocketed his phone. “I’ll be sure to get a copy to you before you check out on Monday.”

“I—well, thank you,” Claire said hesitantly. He could tell she wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of someone else having a photo of them either. If they’d possessed the only copy that would be different. They’d have control over it.

They turned and walked away from the yacht after exchanging goodbyes with him.

“Let’s hope all he does with that photo is get it printed,” Claire muttered to Eliot with a sigh.

Claire stopped as they reached the car and leaned into Eliot to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“Thank you,” she said with a soft smile. “I know that probably wasn’t very exciting for you and probably felt more like work considering all the cover stories we threw at him in there.”

“No,” he said as he shook his head and smiled at her in return. “It actually wasn’t bad. Definitely worth it if it meant I got to hear you sing again. It’s been too long since I heard your voice, darlin’.”

“I did miss it,” she admitted. “More than I thought I did, honestly. Playing guitar tonight…that felt _good_. Better than I’ve felt in a very long time. And now, I don’t know, I feel a little…”

“Lighter?” Eliot asked knowingly.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

“That’s how I feel after I’ve spent some time in a kitchen,” Eliot said as he gave her a warm gaze. “Believe it or not, it helps. It’s…therapeutic. Music might be that for you.”

“Maybe,” she said as she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. She wasn’t quite ready to admit to anything yet. He could tell. But she’d had a taste of music again and he could tell she wanted more.


	8. Relaxation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The effect of the dinner with Mr. Shauffner.

 

Claire was silent on the drive back to the bed and breakfast, but he’d expected that. She had a lot to think about. When they made it up to the room Claire kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the bed. He grinned at her and followed suit. 

“I think when we get back I want to go shopping for a guitar,” she said thoughtfully. “I know you said I could use yours but a guitar feels like a very personal thing to me. Like…like an extension of myself. If that makes any sense.”

“It makes sense,” he assured her.

She turned to face him with a smile. “I haven’t owned a guitar in years. I didn’t even realized how much I missed it until I had one in my hands again.”

“You had a guitar when I left,” Eliot said with a furrowed brow.

“Moreau said one of the jet’s crew ‘lost’ mine,” She told him with a roll of her eyes. “Didn’t buy it for a moment. Everyone knew he’d do anything to control me. Just another thing on the long list. I feel a little bit more like myself just thinking about having a guitar again. Why didn’t I realize this sooner? I didn’t even think about music until you brought it up a few days ago. And now I—I can’t seem to stop hearing music in my head.”

He rolled onto his side to face her just as she’d done a minute ago. “I think you’ll remember more and more about yourself the more you distance yourself from Moreau.” He brought one hand to her face and softly caressed the length of her face. “You look happier already.”

She beamed at him and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Thank you,” she said as she slid closer to him. “Thank you for talking me into staying for two weeks and thank you for bringing us here.”

He chuckled and kissed her softly before he pulled back to speak. “That was just as much for me as it was for you. I spent so much time trying to put you behind me and I never once succeeded. Just tried to make due. And having you back suddenly…well I couldn’t let you leave without a little one on one time.”

“And I’m grateful you thought of it,” she said as he wrapped his arms around her too and pulled her closer.

She smiled warmly at him and then closed the distance between them. She kissed him slowly and openly. At the end of the kiss she playfully nipped at his bottom lip. He let out a low chuckle and then rolled onto his back with her still held tightly against him. With her petite frame settled against his chest and their legs tangled together he felt no need to rush anything. Neither did she based on the pace she’d chosen for the kisses. Her hands were cradled on his chest in between them and his hands rested on her waist. He inched one hand toward the top of the zipper for her dress while the other kept her as close to him as possible.

As he brushed her hair off her back and carefully pulled the zipper down, she unbuttoned his shirt. Never once, though, did they cease kissing. Once he had the dress unzipped he slipped a hand underneath it. With one hand he squeezed and then released the clasp on her bra. She stopped kissing him for a brief moment to smirk against his lips. She had his shirt halfway unbuttoned and wasted no time reaching under the shirt to touch his skin. She surprised him though by stopping to feel each and every scar she found. She’d never done that before and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. He did notice that the kissing seemed to intensify with each scar she discovered. There was something new happening here. He couldn’t quite tell what her intention was but it left him feeling very…appreciated. Maybe even…loved? Was that what that was? He could never be sure with Claire. They both played emotions close to their chest. But it certainly felt reminiscent of love to him.

She pulled back from him slowly and shifted to straddle his lap. She gave him a sinful smirk as she slowly slid her arms out of the sleeveless satin dress she was wearing to reveal her bra that was loosely covering her breasts. His hands landed on her thighs and then moved upward to slide the skirt of the dress up as far as he could. She then slipped her arms out of the bra straps and tossed the bra off the bed and onto the floor before she held her arms up above her head and gave him an expectant look.

“Help a girl out of her dress, Spencer?” She asked him with a grin and a wink.

He smirked and peeled the dress up over her head. He dropped it off the edge of the bed and then immediately tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her down for a kiss. His hands moved from her hair and explored her exposed skin. She withheld from him enough that she led him into a sitting position as she leaned away from his kisses. As he sat up she finally managed to unbutton the last few buttons on his shirt. She pushed the shirt down on his shoulders and he took it the rest of the way. Pretty soon his shirt and pants and belt joined her dress and bra on the floor. This trip had definitely been one of his better ideas. He could tell Claire felt freer and lighter. There was more of _her_ in these kisses than he’d felt since her earliest days with Moreau.

* * *

 

The weight that had been lifted off of Claire’s shoulders had caused something in her that was contagious. A giddy happiness spread through her to him and eventually it wore them both out. Claire never even bothered to get out of bed to wash her face or brush her teeth once they'd tired each other out. She simply curled her naked body into his as he pulled the covers around them. She’d fallen asleep shockingly fast, considering her last few nights. He’d been prepared for another bad night. She’d been confronted with a lot of her past tonight. He didn’t want her to _have_ a bad night but he knew from personal experience that facing your past typically brought up a lot of bad memories in a way that felt as fresh as the day they happened.

He felt tired but he forced himself to stay awake to keep an eye on her. Two hours went by and she’d yet to even stir. She was out cold. Her muscles were relaxed and her breathing was deep and peaceful. He felt relief wash over him. This was the first night she seemed truly at ease. She snuggled further into him and he grinned sleepily before he kissed the top her head. If she was still in a deep sleep after two hours it was safe to say that he could sleep too. He instinctively wrapped his arms tighter around her as he drifted off.

He didn’t know what time it was when he finally woke up but the sun was a lot lower in the sky than he was used to. He also noted that he wouldn’t even be up now if his phone wasn’t ringing shrilly from the nightstand. Claire whined against his chest and he swiftly grabbed the phone and slipped out of bed. He made sure Claire wasn't going to wake up before he threw on a pair of pants and slipped out onto the balcony. He glared at the name on the phone before he answered with a growl. 

“What, Hardison?” He snapped.

“Sorry to interrupt your weekend of sex—“

He growled again and Hardison quickly moved on.

“—but we have a job.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“No, sadly I am not. Nate found us a job.”

“We have _two weeks_ between jobs, Hardison. It hasn’t even been _one_ ,” Eliot said as he shook his head. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“If the job doesn’t kill him first,” Hardison told him. “We’re going mountain climbing with rich guys on Murder Mountain.”

“Just tell me where to be and when to be there. I don’t need the commentary.”

He got the details he needed and then went about the unpleasant task of waking up Claire. He glanced at the clock and realized this was the longest either of them had slept since they’d started sharing a bed again. And it looked like Claire could go on sleeping if he didn’t have to wake her up. He slid back into the bed next to her and lay down on his side to face her. What was the best way to do this? They didn’t really have time to waste and yet every way he _wanted_ to wake her up would lead to just that. Almost as if she sensed his dilemma Claire stirred and then slowly her eyes opened. She yawned and then rolled over to face him with a sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly.

He grinned at her briefly before he huffed and shifted to his back. “It’s morning, alright, but I don’t know if there’s much good about it.”

“Well, that’s a lovely sentence to wake up to,” Claire said with sarcastic smirk. “What happened while I was asleep?”

“Hardison called.”

She tensed a bit at the name and then sighed. “I’m assuming he had a good reason for that?”

“Nate found a job and if I don’t go the bastard will get himself killed,” Eliot told her with a huff.

She chuckled and scooted closer to him on the bed. “See, this is how I know you care about these people, you curse them and then resolve to keep them alive in the same sentence.”

“Without me the only sane _and professional_ person he’s got is Sophie. Parker’s crazy and Hardison’s too emotional. And Nate…well that’s another issue altogether,” he said. “Sophie can’t handle that all on her own.”

Claire nodded and then rested her head on his shoulder. “So, weekend’s over a bit early then?”

“Yeah, Hardison is leaving about now, probably, and I’m leaving Boston tonight to meet everyone there tomorrow,” he answered. “Don’t want to leave you alone again, darlin’, but I have to go.”

She slipped her hand into his and squeezed his hand to interrupt his apology and get his attention. She shook her head before she spoke. “Stop. It’s fine. I know you wouldn’t be doing this job unless it was pretty major. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Focus on keeping yourself and your team safe. I can take care of myself.”

“Hopefully, I won’t be gone long,” he told her. “According to Hardison, Nate says this job has a very specific window of opportunity. Based on that, I doubt it’s a long con.”

“Then I guess we should get packed and get going,” she said as she sat up and glanced around the room. “We still have to fly back to Boston, and it’s—“ she stopped to look at the clock on the bedside table and her eyes widened in shock. “It’s after _noon_. We slept until after noon? Well, I slept for sure. Did you sleep?”

He debated lying briefly because she would know what his sleeping longer with her meant. She knew him well enough to understand, even though it took _him_ a while to get what it really meant.  He decided honesty was probably a good thing to start the morning with, though, so instead he nodded and then said, “You know, since I got back from San Lorenzo I’ve been sleeping longer than I normally do. I slept longer last night than I’ve slept in years.”

She blushed very slightly and then smiled warmly at him. “Really? How interesting.”

He chuckled and nodded again. “Very interesting. I wonder why that is?”

“Could it be because I’ve been wearing you out with amazing sex?” She asked with a cheeky grin.

He laughed and then smirked at her. “Well, I think it was certainly a contributing factor. But there might be a bit more to it than that."

Her grin faded and she gave him a once over that looked both joyful and frightened. She looked so conflicted that he didn’t dare elaborate any further on what he meant. Maybe now wasn’t the time. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear what he wanted to say. He decided to change the subject.

“You didn’t have a nightmare last night,” he told her.

“I didn’t?” She asked as she looked at him thoughtfully. “Oh my God, I didn’t! I guess between you and the music I wasn’t so worried about the state of my immortal soul.” She gave him a sad little smile before it grew into a larger happier one. “One step forward,” she told him. “One day at a time.”

He understood that completely. When you know where you’ll end up when you die your subconscious and your dreams take a turn for the worse. He’d adjusted to this already. He’d come to terms with his past and what it meant for his future. His actions still haunted him but they haunted him in very different ways now. Claire was still accepting what she’d done and was still dealing with where she needed to go from here. Her conflicted expression earlier had worried him but knowing that he eased some of her worries and fears just by being there lifted a little of that worry off of him. She, at least, needed him even if she didn’t love him quite yet.

They reluctantly got out of bed and dressed for the day. They had lunch brought up to the room and ate while they packed. Eliot called the airport and purchased two seats on a late afternoon flight back to Boston and then they headed downstairs to check out.

Eliot handed Felicia the key and she frowned at them.

“Leaving so soon?” She asked.

“We’ve got a bit of an urgent situation we have to deal with back home,” Claire told her with a small smile. “Trust me, we don’t _want_ to leave this early.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Felicia told them as she printed out a copy of their final invoice. “Oh!” She said suddenly. “I almost forgot. Mr. Shauffner came by earlier and left something for the both of you.” She reached behind the desk and then handed Eliot a document sized manila envelope with the invoice. “There you go and thanks for staying with us. Come back anytime.”

Eliot smiled awkwardly at her and nodded. “We might just do that.”

“Tell, Mr. Shauffner that we said thank you for everything, will you?” Claire asked Felicia. “He was very kind.”

“Will do,” Felicia agreed. “Have a safe flight.”

They took their bags to the rental car and loaded up to head to the airport. Eliot handed her the envelope as he settled into the driver’s side and started down the road. She opened it and found three copies of their photo from the night before. One large 8x10 and 2 small 4x6 copies. Despite the awkwardness they both felt about the photo at the time, it had turned out really well. They both looked relaxed, which considering her profession and his was no small feat. And they looked… _happy_. Eliot smiled softly while Claire showed him the photos. As she carefully tucked them back into the safety of the envelope he reached over and took one of her hands in his. She gave him a small pleasantly surprised smile and intertwined her fingers through his in return.

The drive to the airport was comfortably silent. They both had the ability to enjoy the moment without needing to fill it with a lot of small talk. Sometimes conversation just got in the way. The weekend had done what he hoped but yet not in the way that he had planned. Claire was relaxed and appeared to be in a much healthier headspace than she had been, but it hadn’t been talking that had done that. No, it was music. He should have known right away that music was what she needed all along. But he hadn’t and he wouldn’t have thought of it without coming here and running into Shauffner. He had suggested it to her, yes, but only because it was a part of who she’d been before Moreau, before _him_ even. Now that he knew it would help her, he had a few ideas of things they could do when he got back.

This job better be worth it. He only had two weeks to begin with and he didn’t want to waste any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we enter the events of The Long Way Down Job. Just like last time Claire is not involved in the actual job. So I won't be rehashing the episode or trying to squeeze her into it, but it will have an effect on both Claire and Eliot. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!   
> angellwings  
> PS - I FINALLY GOT THEM OUT OF NANTUCKET. These two, I swear, they do not listen to me. Nantucket was supposed to be one or two chapters tops.


	9. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot comes back from the job in the early morning hours.

Eliot wasn’t even going to bother with going back to his apartment. He could purchase cold weather gear more easily than he could dig out his own. There was also no point to him going home when he’d be coming straight back to the airport not even half an hour later. He didn’t like it but it made the most sense.

Before they reached the exit from the terminal, where Claire would exit to the taxis and Eliot would stay behind he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Be careful,” he told her. “And let Tara or Shelley know if you need anything, okay?”

She nodded and then pulled him in for a slow lengthy kiss. When they separated she placed one hand on his cheek and spoke with a firm tone. “Watch your back, Spencer. Come back to me in one piece, okay?”

He smiled softly at her. “I’ll try,” he told her. Really that was the most he could promise.

“You’d better,” she told him before she kissed him once again.

He pulled back from her and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll call you when we’re done.”

“Hurry back. I still owe you just over a week, you know,” she said with a wink.

“Trust me, I’m aware,” he said with a smirk. “Looking forward to it.”

She nodded again and started to walk away from him, but she almost immediately stepped back into his space and wrapped her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace and placed a quick kiss to her neck.

She adjusted to look him in the eye for a long moment. She looked hesitant and unsure as if she had something she wanted to say but didn’t know how to actually say it. “I’ll, um—I’ll miss you , Eliot.”

“I’ll miss you too, darlin’,” he told her honestly. He would but if he were honest he meant a different word altogether. If he wasn’t going to say that word just yet then telling her he’d miss her was a satisfactory placeholder.

After that she let go of him and then slowly walked away from him with a soft smile on her face. She waved as she stepped onto the down escalator and he watched her go until she was out of sight. He didn’t like not seeing her home, but he didn’t have much choice. He was worried. Worried about her, about his team.  He worried about her not getting enough sleep, about her having those nightmares again, about her not having anyone to be there for her when she did. He worried about what woukd happen to Nate, Parker, Sophie, and Hardison if he didn’t show up for the job. Right now one set of worries was more time sensitive than the other. Besides, Claire had told him yesterday not to worry about her. He knew that she was right. She could take care of herself, and if she needed any immediately assistance she knew to call Shelley or Tara. They were more than capable back up.

As usual, the job had it’s fair share of complications and hiccups. And Nate put them all at risk. More than he should have probably. When he told Claire the roles the team played, he never imagined that this job would shift all of them. This time Parker was the emotional one and Nate was the crazy one. Seeing Parker so emotional had caused him more than a few struggles himself. She wanted to do the right thing. To bring a man home who’d not gotten any closure with the love of his life. She wanted to make the team proud. She wanted so badly to do the right thing that she’d forgotten that sometimes the right thing isn’t always possible. To be honest, he would have given anything to help Parker do the right thing. He had tried after all but he wasn’t going to sacrifice her safety. He wasn’t going to lose her to save a man who was already dead. He would never do that.

He hated to admit it but Claire was right. These people were as good as family and he’d never leave any of them behind. He hadn’t gone looking for a family. Hell, he’d spent a lot of his recent years hiding from his own relatives. But it seems a family had found him anyway, and he was too far in it now to get out. They were all under his skin and in his heart and he didn’t have the conviction to kick them out of it. In fact, sometimes he even enjoyed having them around.

When he finally arrived back home just over 48 hours later, he was exhausted, emotionally and physically. Watching a couple say goodbye through a video taken on a smart phone had gotten to him too. The man had used his dying moments to remind his wife how much he loved her. They were words she’d clearly needed to hear and part of a goodbye that was almost lost forever on that mountain. It only reinforced what he knew he felt for Claire and what he _needed_ to tell her.

He unlocked the door and opened it to find an empty and dark living room. He looked down at his watch and realized it was nearly four in the morning. He glanced between the two bedrooms and wondered which one Claire had slept in. She’d briefly mentioned that she’d been unable to sleep in his bed while he was in San Lorenzo. He set his duffle down on the couch and then stepped softly toward the guest bedroom. He opened the door carefully and peeked into the room. Sure enough, there she was. Sound asleep on his guest bed. He opened the door a little wider and left his shoes by the door. He stealthily crawled into the bed next to her and watched her sleep for a moment. She must have felt the mattress shift or his body heat because barely a moment after he’d settled in she was scooting toward him in her sleep and curling herself into him. Not even five minutes later he was falling asleep with her safely tucked into his chest.

He woke up several hours later and found Claire watching him with a warm smile.

“Well, good morning,” she told him with a grin as his eyes blinked open. “I see someone forgot to call me when the job was done.”

“I was in a rush to get off that damn mountain,” Eliot told her honestly.

She chuckled and then kissed his nose briefly. “At least you’re in one piece. Everybody else, okay?”

He nodded. “We’re all fine. And the bad guy’s locked away.”

“Business as usual then,” Claire said with a smile.

“Something like that,” Eliot agreed with a chuckle. “Any problems while I was gone?”

“No. Not unless you count Shelley introducing me to _Firefly_ as a problem,” Claire said as she rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on Eliot’s chest.

“What the hell is _Firefly_?” Eliot asked with a quirked brow.

“A TV show that was cancelled. Sort of like a Space Western,” she said with a grin. “You’d like it.”

“Sounds more like something Hardison would be into,” Eliot said skeptically.

“That may be true but it reminded me of you,” she said with a smile and a shrug.

“Speaking of Hardison,” Eliot said as he brought a hand around her back and slipped it into the ends of her hair. “We’re supposed to have dinner at Nate’s tonight.”

She sighed and nodded. “Okay.” She didn’t look very excited. In fact, she looked a bit wary.

“Alright, what is it? What’s with the look?” He asked.

“I—I know these people are your family and Nate and Parker I’m fine with. I don’t think it’s any secret that I have a dislike for Hardison so there’s that, but there’s also…”

“Also what?”

“Sophie is way too perceptive, Eliot,” she told him reluctantly. “I did not like the way she just announced her analysis to the room the last time that I saw her. I don’t like to share those things for a reason and she just blurted it out to everyone. I’m not exactly comfortable with that.”

“She’s not gonna do that tonight, darlin’, this isn’t a work thing,” Eliot said as he placed a comforting hand on her back and held a little closer. “Just…think of it as a family dinner. Play nice for a night and then it’s over.”

Her doubtful expression turned into a smile and curious look as she spoke. “Finally admitting they’re your family then?”

“Not to them, not to anyone else. Only to you. Got that?” He asked her with a pointed glance and lop sided grin.

She chuckled at him but gave him a reassuring smile. “I won’t tell a soul. Promise.”

“So, breakfast?” He asked her.

“Would I ever turn down a meal prepared by Eliot Spencer?” She asked him with a chuckle. “Do you know me at all?” They got out of bed and she quirked a brow at him as she put on her robe. “You’re still in your clothes? Were you that exhausted?” She asked in concern.

He looked down at himself as he remembered how tired he’d been the night before and sighed. “It was a rough one, Claire. All the way around.”

She must have seen something in his face that gave away just how effected he’d been because she looked alarmed and the next thing she said was, “That bad? I thought you said you won? I haven’t seen that look since…since before you left Moreau.”

His eyes met hers and he immediately shook his head to ease her worries. “Not like that,” he told her. “It was physically and emotionally trying. It got to everyone on the team and our roles got all flipped around and I felt like I had to compensate for that. It was just…one of those jobs that made me think. It made me think _a lot_.”

She crossed the room to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Think about what?”

“My crew, my life… _you_ ,” he said as he rested his hands on her waist. “ _Everything_. I watched a wife who lost her husband months earlier finally get a goodbye. It was a video goodbye in a tent full of people, but…watching it you would have thought he was actually there with her and they were all alone. It was so…intimate. In the grand scheme of things, those two had so little time together. Makes you wonder if it was worth it, you know? If the pain of losing someone outweighs the time you had them with you. Makes you question whether that should make you more cautious or force you to take more chances.”

Her eyes analyzed his expressions and her eyes watched him with heightened interest. “And what conclusions did you come to?” She asked him.

“Part of that conclusion depends on you, I guess,” Eliot said honestly. “And on what you’re willing to risk.”

“Eliot, I have kept myself from feeling anything for years,” she told him with a shake of her head. “I’ve been truly free for just over a week and letting myself feel anything again or show what I’m really feeling is something I struggle with every day. I _never_ want to deny how I feel about anyone or anything ever again. If I do that I—well, I think I would stop being human altogether. I never thought I would survive Moreau but now that I have I can’t go on living like a prisoner anymore. That would be a waste of everyone’s time.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” he said with a grin.

“And you?” She asked him hesitantly. “What are you willing to risk, Spencer?”

“To me, risking something, means I’m willing to fight for it. To protect it. What we have is certainly worth fighting the odds for. Now that I’ve got you back, I’d go through hell before I’d let you go again. You got that?” He told her confidently. “Doesn’t matter to me that you want to leave or go off and find yourself. I’m always gonna be here when you come back.”

She smiled affectionately at him and nodded. “And I’m always gonna come back. You know that right? Leaving doesn’t always mean forever.”

He reached out and tucked a loose frizzy wave behind her ear. It was an unintentional reminder of how much of her true self she was letting him see. “I know that _now_ ,” he admitted honestly.

She chuckled at him and shook her head. “All this time, you really thought when I was talking about leaving that I meant to stay gone? Really?”

“When I leave people I tend to stay gone,” he told her. “I just assumed it would be the same for you.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about assuming, don’t you?” She asked him with a quirked brow and a smirk.

“Trust me, darlin’, I’ll never assume anything about you ever again,” Eliot said with a smirk.

Claire grinned at him and chuckled. “You better not.”

She released him and turned to head toward the kitchen when he suddenly felt brave. He’d danced all around it. It was time to actually say it.

“Hey, Claire?” He called after her. She turned in the doorway and gave him an expectant look. He gave her the tiniest of smiles before he took a deep breath and said, “I love you.”

She froze, swallowed thickly, and then took a shaky breath in and out. Her mouth fell open and she blinked at him for a long painful moment. He wondered if he’d scared her or if he’d just made a mistake. Then she brought a hands to her chest to rest over her heart and gave him a huge watery smile.

“You—you what?” She asked with a soggy nervous laugh.

“I love you,” he repeated.

She shook her head at him and sniffled but continued to smile. “I—I never thought—I never thought I’d hear you actually say those words.”

He walked the few steps toward her and closed the distance between them. He could see tears in her eyes and brought a hand to her face to wipe away a single tear that had escaped. “Don’t leave me hangin’, Lanier. You’re killing me, here.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck again. “I—of course I love you, Eliot. I really do. I so completely _love_ you.”

That was all he needed to hear. She’d barely gotten out the words before his lips had seized hers. She’d made a surprised sound against his lips but quickly sunk into it as his hands tightened on her hips and squeezed just slightly. She pulled back enough to smile against him. When she returned to kissing him she backed him up toward the bed. Once again, Eliot thought in amusement, breakfast would have to wait.


	10. Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Eliot prepare for a Leverage Family dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short filler chapter but it has been a while since I updated and I thought I should probably post something for you guys. ;) Next chapter will be meatier, I promise.
> 
> Also, the song in this chapter is by Tori Kelly. I definitely did not write it.

 

Once they’d managed to get up and actually make it through breakfast without any further…interruptions they got dressed and then Eliot spotted his guitar on a stand in the corner of the living room. He’d never bought a stand for his. He typically kept it in the case until he was in the frame of mind to play. It being out must have meant that Claire had taken his offer to let her use it to heart.

“You been playing?” He asked her as he motioned to the guitar.

She smiled and nodded before she held up a small black journal. “And writing.”

His eyebrows rose and he gave her an impressed look. “Really? I haven’t seen you writing since just after you joined up with Moreau.”

She shrugged and smiled sadly. “I didn’t see much point in it once I realized I was… _stuck_. But I’m not stuck anymore and it’s been sort of therapeutic. It seemed to help with the nightmares while you weren’t here,” she said honestly. “Made me feel a bit nostalgic, actually. Song writing has always been what I did in place of writing in a diary. I found a bit of my old self when I put that pen to paper.” She set the notebook down on the coffee table and then came to stand in front of him with a grin. “If fact, I’m almost certain that music is to me what food is to you.”

“Well,” Eliot told her with a grin. “If that’s the case you’ll probably need your own guitar.”

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Claire asked with a smirk. “Do you want to go guitar shopping?”

“You know you want to,” Eliot said with a chuckle. “Why not?”

“Can’t think of a single reason,” she told him happily. “Know any good music shops?”

He nodded. “Visited a few of them in the city after that job in Tennessee.”

“Oh right, you never did tell me that whole story,” She told him pointedly.

He cleared his throat nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think you’d be interested.”

She quirked a brow at him and bit back a smirk. “Let me guess, it involves a girl, right?” He didn’t answer and she chuckled. “Of course it does. A cute country crooning girl I’m guessing. Probably a bit fiery, knowing you. Am I close?”

“Right on the money, actually,” he said with a playful glare and a lopsided grin. “How do you do that?”

She shrugged and smiled proudly at him. “I just know you, that’s all. You’ve got a weakness for feisty women. You probably know that already, though.” She winked at him teasingly. “I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

He gave her a small smile and then met her eyes. “She reminded me a little of you, to be honest. That’s what drew me in at first.”

She stepped into his personal space and gave him an amused look. “That’s sweet…in an oddly twisted way. But then again, we’ve always been a bit twisted, haven’t we?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Eliot said playfully. “It keeps things interesting.”

She laughed lightly and then stood up on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. She then grabbed his hand and dragged him to the door. “Let’s go, Spencer. There’s a guitar out there calling my name.”

* * *

 

The first shop they went to was a bust. The guitars had been cheap. Great for beginners but Claire was far from a beginner. The next store had more pianos and keyboards than guitars. But the third store…the third store was a treasure trove of beautiful guitars. Takemines, Gibsons, Taylors…any brand you preferred.

Claire had found the corner with all the Gibson guitars and Eliot held back a grin as she stared at them hungrily.

The salesman must have noticed to because he handed her a guitar pick and then said, “Try ‘em out. Find your match. Clearly you want to.”

She smiled bashfully and nodded. “That obvious?”

“I know a music addict when I see one,” he told her with a chuckle. “Have fun.”

“Thanks,” she told him as he left.

She reverently pulled a guitar off the wall and gave it a look of awe he’d never seen on her face before.

“This is a Gibson Hummingbird with a Wine Red finish,” she told Eliot without once looking away from the guitar. “They don’t typically come in a Wine Red finish,” she said as she sat down on a nearby stool. “It’s gorgeous. This guitar is prolific. I mean, every celebrity musician and their cousin has one now but this guitar…this guitar is a rock and roll legend. And it was the first of it’s kind when they introduced it in the 60s.”

Eliot leaned against the counter across from her stool and watched her cradle the guitar gently. She was gushing. He’d never seen her gush.

“Sounds like you know an awful lot about that guitar,” he told her.

“My grandfather had one. An original, from the first batch of them ever made. He would joke and say he was the one who really set the trend and Keith Richards just followed his lead,” she said with a fond smile and chuckle. “I think I loved that guitar just as much as he did.”

“Well,” Eliot said. “You heard the guy, play it.”

She bit her bottom lip before she hesitantly strummed and he could tell by the way she’d relaxed that they’d found _the_ guitar. That one chord turned into another and then another and pretty soon she was playing a melody. He didn’t recognize it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and then suddenly she was singing.

_“I’m just a girl with her guitar,_

_Trying to give you my whole heart._

_If there’s anybody out there,_

_Listening to me,_

_All I have is a story and a dream._

_Here I am and that’s all I can be._

_You know I forget to breathe sometimes,_

_And I’m so afraid to fall behind._

_Why do I let the pressure take over my mind,_

_When I know,_

_The truth is never wrong._

_I’m alright this is right where I belong.”_

Eliot was so caught up in listening to her haunting voice that he didn’t notice the crowd gathering until applause sounded from the dozen or so people in the tiny store. Claire bit her bottom lip and looked alarmed at the sounds before she ran a hand through her hair nervously and then stood up from the stool with a subtle bow.

She clutched the neck of the guitar tightly and approached Eliot with a contented smile. “This is the one.”

He chuckled. “I couldn’t tell,” he said sarcastically. “Did you write that while I was gone?”

She nodded. “First thing I’ve written in years. You think it’s any good?” She asked him. Anyone else would see complete and total confidence, but Eliot saw the underlying nerves.

“Did it make you feel something?” Eliot asked her curiously. She nodded wordlessly and he gave her an encouraging smile in response. “Then it was perfect.”

She chuckled and shook her head at him. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe,” he said as he reached out and teasingly tugged on a strand of her hair. “Doesn’t mean I’m not right, though.”

* * *

 

By the time they finished shopping and returned to the apartment Claire was in a hurry to get ready for dinner. It was casual, but according to Claire she _had_ to straighten her hair. By now she knew he preferred her curls but in her mind straight hair was more attractive. She saved the curls for the two of them or when she knew she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew. She applied the finishing touches with just enough time to arrive at Nate’s on time. Eliot grabbed the bag of groceries out of his fridge and motioned for Claire to lead the way out of the apartment.

She quirked a brow at him. “You’re cooking?”

“Who else do you think would be cooking? Hardison eats Hot Pockets off the floor, for crying out loud.”

Claire laughed at his frustrated expression. “Shug, not everyone has the talent you do. Some of us endanger lives when using a toaster oven. It’s not our fault.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at her playfully. “You could cook if you really wanted to. You just don’t want to.”

“Nope, can’t say I do. I don’t have the domestic gene like you do, Spencer. I barely keep house, I don’t cook so I don’t have to do dishes, and I hate folding laundry.”

“So, what you’re saying is you’re not a fifties house wife?” He asked her teasingly.

“Hell no.”

“Damn, just when I thought this might work,” he said with a smirk.

She punched his arm. It didn’t hurt at all. And glared at him. “You did not just say that. Not even as a joke.”

He laughed and grabbed her hand as she tried to punch him again. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, darlin’.”

“Oh I’ll finish it,” she told him in a warning tone. “Just not when you’re at a disadvantage,” she said as she motioned to the bag of groceries in his other arm. “Watch your back, though, Spencer. I’ll get back at you. You watch.”

“Sure you will,” He said with a chuckle. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

* * *

 

They arrived out side of McRory’s not long after that. Eliot had the bag of groceries in one hand and held Claire’s hand with the other. Claire pulled him to a stop as they reached the door that led into Nate’s building. He turned and gave her a curious look.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” she said as she nervously bit her bottom lip.

“What?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

“They don’t exactly trust me,” she told him. “Not that I blame them, but if this is supposed to be a relaxing night together maybe it’s best if it’s just the five of you. I don’t want to intrude on anything.”

“Claire,” Eliot said as he set the bag of groceries down by his feet and then pulled her to him. His arms went around her waist and hers went around his neck. “You’re not intruding. Last time you saw them we were working. The stakes are higher when we’re working and all the defenses are up. You know how that is. Tonight is not work. Tonight will be different. You’ll see. And if all else fails you can avoid Hardison and Sophie and stick close to me or Parker or Nate.  Trust me, I don’t think Parker would mind. She seems to like you.”

“Yep, he’s right. I do.”

Claire’s brow furrowed at Eliot as Parker’s voice appeared out of nowhere and Eliot sighed and rolled his eyes. He glanced up and found Parker repelling from Nate’s bedroom window upside down. The blonde beamed at them as they both looked up at her.

“Hi, guys!”

“Hi, Parker,” Eliot said in a resigned tone. “You’re doing this again, huh?” He asked her.

She shrugged, which to Claire looked very strange while she was dangling upside down. “Nate has the rig, he doesn’t use it so somebody should,” she said as if it were obvious.

“This is a normal thing?” Claire asked with a bewildered expression.

Eliot smirked at her and then glanced at Parker quickly. “You get used to it.”

Parker nodded. “That’s how you know you’re one of us.” With that she flipped and then released the rig to land gracefully on the street with one cat-like motion.

“Right, I’ll be sure to tell you when that day comes,” Claire said with an amused chuckle. “Though I’m not sure I could ever get use to you appearing out of no where.”

“Sure you could,” Parker told her brightly. “Every one else has. Well, most of them still jump a little, but they totally expect it at this point.”

“Is anyone else here?” Eliot asked her.

“Nate is,” Parker told him. “But that’s it. Hardison should be here soon and I haven’t heard from Sophie.”

Eliot nodded and then picked up the groceries again. He opened the door for both Claire and Parker and motioned them inside. “Let’s get this dinner started.”

“And over with,” Claire muttered nervously as she followed Parker into the building.

“Hey,” Eliot said to catch her attention. She turned to face him with a sigh. He smiled encouragingly at her. “You’ll be fine. Relax.”

She snorted and smirked. “Relax? Yeah, sure, I’ll just relax while I’m in the same room as a former insurance cop, a thief, a grifter, and a hacker. That’s likely. Thieves shouldn’t relax around other thieves. My mama taught me that.”

He grinned and quirked a brow at her as they entered the building and shut the door behind them. “Your mama taught you some interesting things.”

She chuckled darkly and patted his cheek. “You don’t know the half of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, the song was by Tori Kelly. Check out her music! She's got some great songs!


	11. Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire has dinner with the Leverage crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to be updating this story more often over the next month. I've started a push to finish as many WIPs as I can before the end of March and I'm only about 2-3 chapters away from ending this installment of the series. (I've already started the next one too so there's definitely a third story coming for Claire and Eliot.) 
> 
> Happy reading!  
> angellwings

 

Well, this dinner was interesting so far. It started with suspicious looks tossed at Claire and then unsure ones tossed at each other once Hardison and Sophie arrived. Eliot grumbled, rolled his eyes, and then stomped off to make dinner in the kitchen. He’d only come back once to bring Claire a glass of wine. He’d given her a pointed look and then glanced over at Sophie. He hoped she’d get the message and play nice.

She sighed and gave him a resigned nod. It was important to him that she make an effort, even if he was reluctant to admit these people were his family. He needed Claire to be able to be in the same room as them. Despite Sophie making her very uncomfortable. He knew Sophie reminded Claire a little too much of her mother. Not that he’d ever met Claire’s mother. He doubted he ever would. She cleared her throat and tried to think of something to say. Eliot did his best to listen while he cooked.

“Eliot tells me you just pulled off a con on a whole tent full of businessmen all by yourself,” Claire said with a small grin. “Pretty impressive.”

Sophie shrugged and then waved a hand at her dismissively. “It was nothing. Just doing my job.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Claire told her. “You pulled the second meeting stunt in under five minutes. That’s amazing.”

“How did he know about that?” Sophie asked.

“Hardison,” Claire responded.

“Of course,” Sophie said with a chuckle. “Tara says she’s working with you on a job?”

Claire nodded. “Yes. When I leave Boston I’m headed straight for a job. Tara’s helping me with intel. Should be a fun one. It’s a good way to stretch out after…” Claire let her sentence drift away and then shook her head at herself. “Well, you know.”

“If you need any help let us know. We’d be happy to lend a hand.”

“Will you stop volunteering me for things?” Hardison asked as he sat down in the armchair to the right of them. “She doesn’t want or need my help. Right, Arm Candy?”

“I’ve worked most of my life without a hacker or any sort of technological assistance. I’ll be fine, thanks,” Claire said with a glare.

“That’s what I thought,” Hardison said with a smirk.

“You guys gonna eat this food I’ve cooked or what?” Eliot asked with a huff.

Parker and Hardison were already up and getting plates by the time Claire was getting her food. Eliot handed Sophie a plate and then Claire. Claire listened with a smirk as Eliot complimented Sophie on the success of her second meeting con and then Sophie explained how she identified the best tactic for her mark. Eliot wondered if Claire knew the signs of a man who was likely to forget a woman’s name the next morning as well as Sophie did. She was nodding and grinning like she completely understood. Nate came down the stairs and Sophie cornered him not long after for a private chat. Eliot noticed Claire seemed very interested in the conversation and was trying watch and listen to it discretely.

She smirked to herself and glanced around the table. He wondered what she’d gleaned from that interaction. Obviously she’d learned something.

“What are you learning from that, that I’m not?” Eliot asked her as he leaned over and whispered his question in her ear. He tossed a pointed glance to where Sophie and Nate were standing and then found her eyes again with a curious grin.

“You think I’m going to spill valuable information I could use to my advantage later? What do you take me for? An amateur?” Claire asked with a flirtatious grin. “No go, Shug. I’m you’ll figure it out eventually.”

Hardison was suddenly standing up and running some sort of device across the light fixture above the table. Eliot gave Hardison a concerned look the longer he looked at the light fixture. Something was very wrong.

“Better call the exterminator ‘cause you got bugs,” Hardison said as he pulled a small device from the inside of the light fixture and held it up for the room to see.

“I thought you swept the place?” Sophie asked as she and Nate joined the group at the table.

“I did but it’s a passive-burst transmitter. It’s the kind I use. Whoever this is, they got game,” Hardison answered as he studied the small device in his hand.

“You’re gonna have to sweep the whole place again,” Nate told him.

“I’m on it,” Hardison told him as he started working on something on his phone.

“Somebody’s taking a run at us,” Nate said as he glanced around the table.

“Sterling,” Eliot growled.

Claire gave him an intrigued look that gave him the feeling she’d be asking him who Sterling was later.

“Could be Starke,” Sophie suggested as she passed the bug to Parker.

“Or maybe Damien Moreau had friends,” Parker added with a small apologetic glance in Claire’s direction. As if she were apologize for even mentioning his name.

Claire scoffed and gave Parker a dry smile. “Maybe? You’re adorable. He didn’t have friends. He had associates and a good chunk of them probably went out of business when Moreau was arrested and even more probably lost legal protection when Ribera was ousted from office. So, yeah, I’d say you might have a lot of highly resourceful people pissed at you.”

“Or maybe it’s my father or the Irish Mob or any, what, 50 odd millionaires that we’ve tricked, imprisoned, or generally ticked off,” Nate said as he reminded them just how large their operation had become.

“Let’s face it,” Eliot said as he looked around the table. “We’ve pulled off some pretty big jobs. That puts us at the top of everybody’s lists.”

Parker nodded in agreement. “When you’re that high up…”

“It’s a long way down,” Nate finished as he looked around at his team with a worried glance.

Awkward silence stretched out between them for a long moment.

“Well, this was an eventful dinner,” Claire said with a small grin as she tried to break up the tension. “Thanks for inviting me. It’s not every day a bug is discovered in a den of thieves. So glad I could be a part of this monumental day.”

Eliot gave her an amused lopsided smirk. Parker chuckled and Nate’s expression remained serious but Eliot did notice the corner of his mouth tug upward just slightly. After that, the group brought their attention back to dinner and began to eat in silence. Once dinner was over Hardison immediatly reported to his computer saying something about a scan that should be finished by now. Parker watched him go with a disappointed face. Eliot, of course, knew something was happening with Parker and Hardison. He would have to have been blind not to see it playing out in front of him for the last 3 years. Something changed between them before San Lorenzo. He wasn’t sure what, but he could see a difference in their attitudes toward each other. After today, he got the impression that Parker was wanting to talk to Hardison about what had happened in that cavern. He wouldn’t blame her and he knew Hardison would know exactly what to say to her. Somehow he always did. Eliot sometimes envied his ability to communicate with Parker. But then he remembered how occasionally Parker asked him awkward questions that made him want to run and hide and the envy quickly faded.

Leave it to Claire to notice Parker’s expression and spring into action. Sophie and Nate got up from the table to check on Hardison and find out exactly what he was up to. The minute they left Claire stood up and walked around the table to take Hardison’s empty seat next to Parker.

“Eliot told me you brought a husband’s goodbye greeting back to his wife for this job,” Claire said softly with a warm smile.

“I would have preferred to bring him back to her instead,” Parker told her with a nod. It was always hard to read Parker’s emotions so it said something about her emotional state right now that Eliot could see that same sadness from the cavern peeking through.

Claire gave Parker a sympathetic look before she continued. “I would feel the same way, but sometimes things are just impossible.” She watched Parker’s face thoughtfully and he could tell she was trying to choose her words very carefully. “We hate to admit it but that’s the way it goes. In those situations, what’s important is that you do the most you can possibly do and _you_ , Parker, did that. You have nothing to feel bad about or be ashamed of. You did exactly the thing any decent person would do. You stood up for a man who couldn’t stand up for himself. Just…keep telling yourself that, okay? Any time you doubt it, repeat that to yourself.”

“Okay,” Parker said with a ghost of a smile.

“Okay?” Claire asked.

Parker nodded. “Okay, I’ll remember that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Claire said with a wink. “Anytime.”

They finished dinner while Hardison continued his sweep. He didn’t find any more than the one, which was surprising. Parker and Hardison then did the dishes and Eliot snuck he and Claire out of Nate’s apartment. He was ready to have her all to himself again. She’d genuinely made an effort with the people he reluctantly called his family. It impressed the hell out of him and left him feeling something he hadn’t felt in years. Something he couldn’t name. He knew he loved her, he’d told her that much and she felt the same. But this feeling was something bigger and he could feel it taking root.

“No goodbyes?” Claire asked with a grin as they made it down the stairs and out the door.

“If we said goodbye we’d be here for another hour,” Eliot told her with a light chuckle. He took her hand as they walked down the steps and out onto the sidewalk. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” Claire asked with a furrowed brow.

“For actually making an effort,” he told her. “I saw you talking to Sophie and Parker. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it.”

“Parker’s sweet. I didn’t mind that. I will, however, accept your thanks for Sophie. She makes me want to squirm and hide. Her eyes see everything. I don’t like it,” Claire told him. He’d heard this all before. 

“You were observing her pretty closely tonight too,” Eliot pointed out with a smirk.

“I was and I learned something very interesting,” she told him with a secretive smile. He opened his mouth to ask her another question but she held up a hand to stop him and shook her head. “Already told you I’m not spilling. I’m saving this knowledge for a rainy day. You’ll figure out soon enough anyway, I’m sure.”

He pulled her into his side and released her hand to wrap an arm around her waist. She leaned into him very lightly as they walked and then slipped her hand into the back pocket of his jeans. A part of him felt like a high school kid on a date with his sweetheart. There was a strange giddy feeling bubbling up in his chest that he’d forgotten he could feel to begin with.

* * *

 

The next day, they decided they wanted to stay in. Between Nantucket and Eliot’s job and the family dinner the night before they felt they needed a little break. Nate had promised to give the team the rest of the promised time off, which left them with another week to enjoy together. After that day, they’d stayed in again and then again after that.

The best way to kick off the second week, in Eliot’s mind, was to lounge around with Claire. Having her basically live with him for the last few weeks was an enlightening experience. Their housekeeping abilities were complete opposites because Eliot kept his place neat and Claire…didn’t. But she’d been making an effort because she knew he how he felt about it. He, however, hadn’t been in the apartment _with her_ long enough to adjust to her.

So far today, he had learned one very important thing about having Claire around the apartment. He loved listening to her play guitar. She’d been strumming and mumbling lyrics and jotting things down in her song writing journal all morning while he sat in the living room and read one of his favorite books. She played lightyears better than himself. She was well trained on the guitar and you could hear it in every chord she played.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and found her leaning over her guitar to scribble something in her notebook with a curtain of red frizzy waves falling around her. The waves were something else he really liked. She kept them as long as it was just the two of them and somehow that made him like them even more. This morning, she’d forgone the make up and had picked her one and only pair of relaxed fit jeans. She wore a baggy sweatshirt she’d borrowed from his closet and then a pair of his socks on her feet.

This extremely casual version of Claire had quickly become his favorite. He enjoyed seeing her in revealing cocktail dresses, bathing suits, and lingerie—don’t think he didn’t—but outfits like the one she wore now indicated a level of intimacy and trust they hadn’t reached the last time around.

He pulled his focus back to the book in his hands as Claire stopped strumming. He was reclined on his couch with his legs stretched out in front of him and the book held up in front of his face. He’d reread this book several times over and he couldn’t think of one instance where it hadn’t kept his attention. Until now.

Her heard soft footfalls walking across his hardwood floors and then suddenly Claire was crawling over him to lay down in between his side and the back of the couch. He grinned at the page of his book he wasn’t reading as she slipped her head and shoulders under his arm and rested her head on his chest. She snuggled into him and sighed contentedly.

“Bored?” He asked her as he continued to pretend to read.

“Stuck on a song,” she answered. “You can’t force these things or you end up with an empty lyric. What are you so engrossed in? Or _pretending_ to be engrossed in.”

He grinned at her and then let his gaze meet hers. “You knew, huh?”

“Eliot, I’ve never _not_ known when you’re staring at me,” she told him with a smirk. “It feels like your eyes burn through me when you stare. It’s intense. I like it.”

He placed the bookmark in his book and then set it down on his coffee table. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and then reached across to grab her hand with the other. She turned on her side and tangled her legs with his to find a more comfortable position and then placed a quick affectionate kiss along his jaw.

“So, are we staying in tomorrow too?” She asked him.

“Do you want to?” He asked her curiously.

“I feel like a bum staying here all day, but at the same time…I’d rather be here being a bum with you than be out there having to share you with other people,” she told him with a bright smile.

“Hey, I have three more days before I’m stuck with Parker and Hardison and a mark being punched and kicked. I think my job entails enough social interaction. I’ve earned the right to stay in for a few days,” Eliot told her. “Especially if I’m staying in with you.”

“Good,” Claire told him. “We can hide out from the real world together. For a little while anyway.”

He turned his head and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. One kiss became two and then three and suddenly there was no stopping where this was going. He released her hand and rested that hand on her hip before sliding it under the sweatshirt to caress the skin he found there. Her hands moved from where they had been cradled against his chest to his shoulders and then the back of his neck. She lightly ran her thumbs across his throat and jawline. He used the arm he had around her to hold her tightly and shift their positions on the couch until she was resting on top of him. He slowed the pace of the kisses until they were lazy and long. They were in no rush and they had no intention of leaving. He wanted to drag this out and enjoy it. He wanted to take his time.

Over the last four days he’d started to realize what that “bigger” feeling he’d felt that night at dinner was. It wasn’t so much a feeling as a desire. A desire to keep her in his life for as long as he possibly could.

A desire to play for keeps.

He hadn’t felt that particular desire since Aimee, but even when comparing it to what he felt for Aimee…it was still different. He was older and wiser. More acquainted with how unfair the world could be and more familiar with how difficult it was to be the man he knew himself to be _and_ maintain a relationship. He knew the dangers and the risks and he knew all the ways this could end badly.

He turned all the negative outcomes over in his head so many times over the last few weeks and he’d come to one conclusion…

He didn’t give a damn.

He just wanted her. He wanted to make a life that had her in it, no matter what that life was. If there was trouble he wanted to face it _with her_. He didn’t want to hide her away and keep her safe at the cost of his own pain. No, he selfishly wanted her with him no matter what the price might be. That was something he never felt with Aimee. Or anyone else.

Only Claire. No one else but Claire.

Suddenly her phone blared from where it sat on his kitchen counter. He started to pull away to let her answer it but she held him tighter and shook her head as she pulled back to look at him. “I’ll call them back,” she said in a rush before she went back to kissing him. He smiled against her lips before they picked back up where they left off and he helped her peel off the sweatshirt. The phone stopped ringing as he tossed the shirt aside. He sat up to let her help him with his t-shirt when her phone started to ring again.

She rolled her eyes and groaned. “Don’t people know how to leave voicemails anymore?”

He chuckled at her. “You sure you don’t wanna answer that?”

“Whatever it is,” she said as she peeled his shirt off of him. “It can wait.” The shrill ringing stopped and she grinned before her lips found his once again. His hands gripped her hips and hers explored his bare chest as their kisses became more urgent. He was about to suggest they change locations when suddenly his phone rang from his jeans pocket.

“Seriously?” Claire asked in frustration as she sat up and straddled his waist.

“I think someone’s trying to get in touch with you,” Eliot said with a sigh. “And I don’t think it’s going to stop until one of us answers.”

“Whoever it is has the absolute worst timing,” Claire said as Eliot pulled his phone out of his pocket and answered it reluctantly.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Hey, Tara. Yeah, she’s right here.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “No, we weren’t doing anything,” Eliot said sarcastically. “What would make you think that? Yeah, you’re a riot.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and held it out to her. “It’s Tara, she says it’s urgent.”

“It better be,” Claire grumbled as she peeled herself off of Eliot and took the phone out of his hands. She stood and relocated to the arm chair as she pressed the phone to her ear. “What?” She asked irritably.

Eliot grinned at her. At least she seemed as eager to finish what they started as he was.

Claire winced and then rubbed a hand across her forehead as she listened to Tara on the phone. “You have got to be kidding me. How do you know this?” She listened for a few more moments and then cursed under her breath. “Okay, so we’ve got to move up our time table then,” she told him. He could hear the disappointment in her voice. “No, Tara, we have to. If we don’t these guys are going to kill this woman. The only way to protect her and take him down is if we start this job like _now_.” There was a pause and she gave Eliot an apologetic look. He sighed and reached for his shirt that she’d tossed on the floor. Looks like their two weeks was ending a little early. “Yeah, okay, get the tickets with the IDs we’ve built. We leave in two hours. Yeah, thanks for the heads up. Okay, bye.”

She hung up his phone and handed it to him.

“I’m sorry, Eliot,” she finally said with a frustrated sigh. “I have to go. The window of opportunity on this mark just narrowed considerably.”

“Hey,” he said with a half hearted shrug. “If you’ve gotta go then you’ve gotta go. Nobody knows that better than me. I’ve left you for two jobs so far,” he told her as he put his shirt back on and then pulled her up from the armchair. “It’s my turn to be left behind,” he told her with a playful grin as he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her against him.

“I should pack,” she told him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Tara’s picking me up in an hour.”

“Okay,” he said as he hesitantly released her. She started to walk away but then turned back around and placed one hand on either side of his face.

She ran her thumbs over his cheeks and smiled affectionately at him. “You know I’m coming back, right? This is a long con, but I’ll be back when it’s over. You know that, don’t you?”

“I was hoping,” he told her honestly.

She nodded and smiled warmly at him for a lingering moment. She placed a quick kiss to his lips and then scooped his sweatshirt off the floor on her way to the guest room. He watched her through the doorway as she started to pack and he felt his worry already building up in his chest. She’d be okay, he told himself. She’d be back before he knew it. Besides, he had his own jobs to keep him distracted. The time would fly.

Or that’s what he’d make himself believe. For now.


	12. Tender Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After The Carnival Job, Hardison and Parker arrange for a bit of surprise for Eliot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have now written all chapters for this part of the Achilles Heel series! They'll be posted in the coming days! This one takes place after The Carnival Job. I hope anyone left still reading this is enjoying it! I love Claire and I have lots more in mind for her! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> angellwings

 

Her go bag was packed with essentials. She’d said something about stopping by her storage unit on the way to the airport. He assumed she had more suitable things for this job in storage.

“Okay, I guess I’m packed,” she said as she glanced through her purse one more time to make sure she had everything she needed. She pulled a key out of her pocket and held it out to him.

He shook his head and then reached out to close her hand around the key. “Keep it. You’ll need it when you get back into town.”

She beamed at him. “Really?”

He nodded. “It’s yours.”

She launched herself at him and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you.” She placed a lingering kiss on his lips and pulled away. She pressed her forehead to his and smiled warmly at him. “I’ll be back in a few weeks.”

“Be careful,” he told her as he met her eyes and gave her a stern glance. “I don’t know much about this job but from the sound of that phone call this guy sounds serious.”

She nodded. “I’ll do my best. Try not to get yourself killed while I’m gone with that team of yours, okay?”

He smirked at her and brushed her hair out of her face before he kissed her again. “Okay.”

When he brushed the hair out of her face he must have brought her attention to the fact that it was still frizzy and curly. She immediately pulled out a hair tie and secured into a ponytail. “I really wish I had time to do my hair.”

Eliot rolled his eyes at her and grinned. “It looks good to me.”

She chuckled and smiled at him. “Yes, I’m well aware of how you like my hair, Spencer.”

There was a knock at the door and Eliot opened it immediately. He gave Tara an expectant look and nodded at her in greeting.

“Spencer,” Tara said quickly before she focused on Claire. “Ready?”

“Yes,” she answered. “All packed.”

She placed a kiss on Eliot’s lips before stepping out into the hallway with Tara.

“Call me when they job’s over, alright?” Eliot asked her. Claire nodded and then Eliot turned to Tara. “Call us if you guys need any back up.”

Tara nodded. “They will.”

Eliot quirked a brow at that. “They? You’re not going?”

“Oh no, I can’t go. The mark knows me. Shelley’s got Claire’s back though,”

“Shelley?” Eliot asked Claire with a slight glare. “I didn’t know he was in on this.”

“Yeah, he didn’t want you to kill him if anything happened to go wrong,” Claire told him with a sheepish grin.

“I always knew he was a smart guy,” Eliot said with a smirk. “Tell him I said hi would you?”

“I’ll let Tara handle that since she’s the one who told you he was a part of this,” Claire said with a chuckle.

“Good, that’ll be fun for me,” Tara told her with a crooked smile. “I love messing with that guy’s head.”

“Me too,” Eliot told her with a nod.

Claire rolled her eyes at the two of them. “You’re both jerks.”

“I mean we are criminals,” Tara told her. “I think we’re supposed to be jerks. I’ll be waiting in the car downstairs.” She glanced at her watch and tapped it. “We still have to go by the storage unit _and_ get to the airport.”

Claire nodded. ”Alright, I’m coming. Right behind you.”

“Shelley playing your muscle?” Eliot asked her knowingly.

“He’s my alias’s personal security,” she told him with a nod. “He’s been keeping an eye on the mark for the last week or so too.”

“I was serious earlier,” Eliot told her. “If you need back up, call.”

She nodded. “Deal,” she said before she leaned in and sealed it with a kiss. “No offense, though, let’s hope I won’t need to. See you later, Spencer,” Claire told him with a wink before she turned on her heel and walked down the hall toward the stairs. She waved and grinned at him before she headed down the stairs and out of the building. He went back inside and watched out the window to make sure she got in the car and drove away safely.

He glanced around his now empty apartment and realized how much he was going to miss her. He’d gotten too used to having her around. His eyes landed on her guitar that she’d left on the stand in the corner and grinned. She’d be back for that for sure. He’d see her again in a few weeks.

For now, though, he was bored. No use staying around here. He grabbed his keys and decided to head over to Nate’s. Someone was probably there researching something. They only had a few days before they took on another case. He’d find something keep himself busy over there.

* * *

 

The weeks passed, as did the cases, and still no word from Claire. Luckily his team kept him much too busy to dwell on it too much. Occasionally Tara would pass him a brief message to let him know things were going according to plan. That was usually enough to appease him. He knew if things went bad Claire or Shelley would reach out to him. Tara couldn’t tell him much except that Claire and Shelley were laying the ground work for whatever con they were pulling. Their mark was highly paranoid so they couldn’t risk communicating to Tara often.

Three weeks later they started a job that seemed like all their others. Only their mark wasn’t a villain and he had a kid that Eliot took an inexplicable liking too. A pessimistic and bitter bundle of attitude who would never admit how alone she felt. The girl almost immediately got a piece of his heart. He found himself facing down Russian mob without even pausing to think it through. He’d barreled in and decided, to hell with it, this girl needed him and she was scared. He wouldn’t wait until it was convenient to help her.

He’d saved the girl, of course, but he’d barely walked away from it. The Russians had a hitter working for them that was actually competent.

“You sure you don’t want us to take you to a hospital?” Hardison asked him as they sat in a booth at McRory’s.

“No, man, no hospitals,” Eliot said with a scowl as he cradled his arm to his chest.

“We thought you’d say that,” Parker said with a smirk. “So, Hardison made a call.”

He furrowed his brow at them as Hardison nodded to the door. His gaze followed Hardison's nod and standing just inside the door was Claire. With frizzy red waves, jeans, and one of his sweatshirts. Almost the exact outfit he’d last seen her in. She slowly approached the table and for a moment he’d wondered if he was hallucinating.

She smiled warmly at him and shook her head as she stopped beside of the table. “I leave you alone for a few weeks and you let some guy pound you into the ground. If you wanted my attention, shug, you could have just called.”

He stared at her for a long moment before he gave her a lop sided grin and stood from the table. “What are you doing here?”

“Hardison called Tara and Tara called me,” she said with a smile as she gingerly caressed the cut on his face. “I thought you could use a nurse,” she told him with a wink.

“I don’t think you’re registered,” Hardison told her with a teasing grin.

Claire ignored him and turned to grin at Eliot as she motioned to the door. “Come on, Rocky Balboa, let’s get you home. Huh?”

He said nothing but smiled affectionately at her and nodded. He slipped his good arm around her waist as they left the bar and headed back to his place.

“You shouldn’t have come back for this,” Eliot told her as they walked. “Your job’s not over yet.”

“I did have to come back,” she told him as she leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. “They told me you took a pretty bad beating trying to help that kid and I kept imagining the worst. I couldn’t really focus on the con after that.”

“You could blow your cover with this,” he warned her.

“We covered our tracks pretty well,” she told him. “And Shelley’s still there keeping an eye on things. He’ll let me know if things start to go pear shaped. It’s fine, Eliot. I needed to come back here for this. _For you_.”

He leaned a little more weight on her than he normally would have but he was sore and a little weak and tired. Very tired. Claire noticed but she quickly shifted to support him and wrapped an arm around his waist as well.

“You really took a beating for this kid,” she said softly as they reached his street. “She must have gotten under your skin pretty deep.”

“She needed somebody,” he told her. “She needed a friend.”

“You know, you see yourself as such a bad guy,” Claire said thoughtfully. “But you care more about people and honor than any man I’ve ever met. You really don’t see how fuckin’ _good_ you actually are. You’ve done bad things in the past, yes, but that’s not who you are any more. There aren’t many men that I’ve known in my life that would go through all of this for their family let alone a little girl who needed a friend.”

“It’s atonement,” he told her as he dismissed her praise. “That’s all it is.”

She shook her head at him as they reached his building and headed for the elevator. Normally, he took the stairs but he felt like he had a decent excuse to slack off today.

“That’s not all it is, Eliot,” Claire told him as she smiled at him fondly. “You know that’s not all it is. You're grumpy and irritable and have a short temper sometimes but you care. You care a lot more than you want anyone to know. Whether you want me to know or not, Spencer, I see it. So does your crew.”

He leaned against one of the elevator walls to give Claire a break from being his support but she stayed at his side with her arm around him anyway. He didn’t really know what to say to that so he didn’t say anything. He let Claire’s observation hang in the air between them. The silence was comfortable and thoughtful and they maintained it until the reached the inside of his apartment and he started to collapse on his couch. It was the closest thing to crash on.

Claire placed a gentle hand on his chest to stop him and then pointed to his bedroom. “Uh uh, no way, shug. It’s just a few more steps to your bed. You should lay down.”

He sighed and headed toward his room. He kicked off his shoes and then laid down on the bed in his jeans, hoodie, and jacket. Claire sighed and smiled at him sympathetically.

“I know you’re tired, you really look it,” she said honestly. “But you can’t rest in all those layers.”

He really didn’t want to peel off the jacket. His arm hurt enough getting it on in the first place. Claire must have read this on his face because she sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his leg.

“Sit up. I’ll help you,” she told him. “You’ll feel better once you have it off. Trust me.”

He knew she was right so he dutifully sat up and let her carefully pull the sleeves of the leather jacket down his shoulders and arms and then set it on the armchair in the corner. She came back and lifted them hem of his hoodie and carefully peeled it off of him, making sure not to jostle his arm or chest too much. Finally, he was left in his jeans and a t-shirt. And, he noted, Claire was definitely right. He felt much better. The jacket and the hoodie had been tight on his sore arm and the layers had felt heavy on his bruised ribs. He settled in on the right side of the bed. Claire kicked off her shoes, took off her own sweatshirt, revealing a thin tank top underneath. She climbed into bed next to him and carefully snuggled up to his left, uninjured, side.

He turned his head to look at her and she smiled warmly at him. She reached up and softly ran a hand over the gash on the side of his face, the cut on the bridge of his nose, and the scrapes on the left side of his face. Her eyes gaze was worried and simultaneously relieved. She took his bandaged hand and brought it to her lips. She kissed the back of his fingers and then extended up to kiss the left side of his jaw that was scraped raw. He could feel love and concern and respect radiating off of her.

“God, I love you,” she told him as she placed a hand on the side of his face and ran her thumb across his cheek. “I love you almost too much, you ridiculous self sacrificing honorable idiot.”

Her words were hostile but her tone was soft and affectionate. He chuckled at her and turned his head to place a tender kiss on her lips.

“Thanks. Love you too,” he said as he pulled away and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. It had been a very long time since he’d had someone genuinely try to take care of him. Or someone who made such an effort to appreciate what he did. It only reinforced how much he knew he loved her. 

She settled against his chest and he rested his chin on the top of her head. The sound of her breathing, rhythmic and deep, as she laid next to him lulled him off to sleep. He’d initially been worried about her blowing her cover to come see him, but now he was very glad she’d risked it. He needed her then more than he realized.

 


	13. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire's back for a day to tend to Eliot's injuries from "The Carnival Job".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter until part two is completed! Hope you guys are enjoying it so far!  
> Happy reading!  
> angellwings

The next morning, he woke to find Claire’s side of the bed empty. His brain immediately thought of all the things that could’ve happened to her and then thought of the possibility that maybe he did dream it and she’d never been there to begin with. But before he could get up and search the apartment for her she appeared in his doorway. She’d stripped her jeans at some point and was now just in her tank top and her underwear. Not that he minded. She had great legs. She placed a glass of water and two painkillers on his nightstand.

“I’m almost certain you’ll be needing those,” she told him with a wink. “And since I can’t cook, I thought I would go and pick up breakfast. Any requests?”

“Yeah,” He said in a hoarse and sleepy voice. “Get back into bed.”

She chuckled at him and then leaned down to softly kiss his lips. “If I do that then we’ll never have breakfast.”

“We never do anyway,” he said with a wicked grin. “Why break tradition?”

“Because you have bruised ribs, a sprained wrist, and what looks to be a broken nose. I think you’d be in more pain than you could stand if we stuck with our typical morning routine,” Claire said as she smiled at him affectionately.

“Might be worth it,” he said with a smirk.

“Let yourself heal, loverboy, and then we’ll talk,” she said with a laugh as she pointed to the painkillers again. “Take those. I’m gonna get dressed and go get carry out at the diner down the street. What would you like?”

“Western Omelet,” he said with a resigned sigh. It was clear he couldn’t talk her out of this.

“Don’t sound so glum, shug,” she told him with a grin. “I’ll be back in half an hour tops.”

“You better be,” he told her as he watched her slip on her jeans and the sweatshirt from the day before.

He took the pills she left and then ended up falling asleep again not long after that. When he woke up, he heard footfalls in his kitchen and the soft clanging of dishes and silverware. He pulled himself from the bed, with only slight discomfort. Though at this point in his life he wasn’t sure if the discomfort was slight or if he’d just built up an extremely high tolerance to it.

“Hey,” Claire said softly as she spotted him leaving his bedroom. “Feeling any better?”

He smirked at her and nodded. “Usually doesn’t take me long.”

“Yes, I remember,” she told him with a chuckle. “I used to wonder if you had super human powers.”

He approached his tall square pub table to find that she had transferred the food from take out containers to plates and had set the table.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he told her as he sat down. “I’m a little bruised, but I can still cook.”

She rolled her eyes and came to stand beside his chair. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind and placed a gentle kiss to his temple. “I know, but I wanted to. You can cook for me next time.”

He noticed she said “next time” and not tomorrow. “Leaving so soon?” He asked with a sigh.

She brought her hands to his shoulders and rubbed them soothingly. “Early tomorrow morning. There’s just a couple more week’s needed on the job and then we’ll have this guy right where we need him. The quicker I get back there, the quicker it’s finished and…”

“The quicker you can make it back to Boston.”

“Exactly,” she said as she walked around the table and sat down next to him.

“What is _that_?” He asked as he motioned to her breakfast.

“Fruit,” she said with a chuckle. “And yogurt.”

“That’s not breakfast,” he told her.

“It’s not an omelet,” she told him. “But it’s healthy, and light on the calories.”

“Light on calories?” Eliot asked her with a furrowed brow. “Am I missing something?”

“No,” she told him with a smirk. “I’m just watching what I eat, Spencer.”

“Since when?” He asked.

“I’ve always been careful about what I eat, Eliot. I took some time off from that after Moreau but I’m working again so I’ve been getting back to it since I left. Gotta maintain this figure somehow,” she said.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with your figure,” Eliot grumbled as he picked up his fork from the table.

Claire grinned at him and nodded. “Good to know you think so.” She nudged his shoulder playfully. “I think what you’re really upset about is that you might have to change what you cook for me.” She winked at him before she continued. “But I will always make an exception for a meal prepared by Eliot Spencer.”

He turned a reluctant lop-sided grin on her and then reached over to where the seat of her chair met the legs. He slid her chair until it was directly next to his. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “That’s all I needed to know.”

“You and food,” she said with a laugh as she reached for her yogurt and bowl of fruit. “It’s always so personal.”

He put his left arm around the back of her chair while he used his right, bandaged, hand to eat. They ate in silence for a moment. He watched her as she speared slice of melon after slice of melon on her fork. He would never understand why people denied themselves certain foods for calories sake. It was really all about moderation and exercise. But then he’d never known Claire to exercise so he supposed the alternative was to change what she ate.

“You know,” she started as she broke the silence. “You’ve only let me do this once before,” she said softly as she met his eyes. “This whole take care of you after a job thing. And last time you were at a very particular low point.”

“I remember,” he said simply. “That was the night every thing with Moreau fell apart.”

She nodded and angled herself toward him in her chair. She reached a hand up and tenderly caressed the side of his face and then ran her hand through his hair. Her touch was so soft and light and comforting that it kept him from spiraling too far down that particular trail of memories.

He’d come to her after doing what he knew to be the worst thing he’d ever done in his entire career—no, lifetime. Successful but beaten and hopeless and lost. That one job had changed everything. He’d gone from hitter to retrieval specialist as soon as that job had finished. He couldn’t really be a hitter anymore after that and the first person he’d thought of had been Claire. He hadn’t felt for her then what he felt for her now, or he hadn't thought he did, but she was a kindred spirit. She was a person of honor in a den of low lives. She didn’t deserve to end up as broken as he was in that moment. He knew she was the only person in Moreau’s crew who cared about him more than the job and he knew he wanted to save her if he could. He’d showed up at her door bruised and bloodied, in blood that wasn’t his own, and she’d taken care of him with no hesitation. He’d expressed everything he was thinking and feeling and she’d listened patiently and they’d made plans in low urgent whispers with loud music playing all around them. They’d both been keenly aware of Moreau’s tendency to bug his own people’s rooms. They thought that would allow them to keep it a secret. They were very wrong.

“The night we made our plan to leave,” she said in a voice just above a whisper. Her hand stayed on the back of his neck and she caressed his hairline as she continued. “God, I wanted to go with you so badly. Please don’t think I didn’t. You said something when you found me with Moreau a few weeks back about thinking I’d ditched you and I just want to make sure that you know for sure—I didn’t ditch you. I wanted to leave Moreau behind and run away with you more than anything I’d ever wanted before, but I would never have been able to live with myself if that choice had ended your life. I couldn’t risk that. Because, Spencer, I have been in love with you for far longer than you’ve been in love with me. I can promise you that.”

He didn’t know where this had come from or why she felt the need to admit this to him but he swallowed thickly and nodded as he moved his arm from the back of the chair to wrap it around her and pull her closer. “When you didn’t show, I should have gone after you,” he told her. “But I was so used to broken promises and people serving their own self interest that I just assumed—I should have come back for you.”

She shook her head before she kissed his lips slowly and intrusively. She pulled away and then gave him a watery smile. “I’m glad you didn’t. If you had things would have ended very badly. You know that. It’s why I never tried to reach out to you. I could have but I chose not to. You were away from Moreau and I wanted you to stay away. When you showed up out of the blue I was both relieved and terrified. Moreau had been waiting for the perfect moment to prove how much power he had over the both of us. I knew whatever happened when you walked in to that party would be ugly. I never once imagined I’d end up here, with you, though. I wanted it but I refused to let myself think it would happen.”

“Well, it’s happened, darlin’,” he told her as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. “You better get used to it.”

“Believe me, that’s not a difficult adjustment to make,” she said with a grin as she brushed her nose against his and then kissed his lips again. “In fact, I think I’m getting a little too used to this set up we’ve got going here. I don’t trust things when I’m this happy.”

He laughed lightly and nodded in agreement. “I know the feeling.”

She leaned back and smiled warmly at him for a long moment before she pointed to his plate. “Eat. For once we are actually going to get through breakfast while it’s still warm.”

He chuckled at her as he picked up his fork again. “I was eating, you’re the one that went and got all emotional on _me_.”

“I couldn’t help it,” she told him. “You were giving me that look.”

“What look?” He asked curiously.

“The look that says you’re wondering what I’m thinking or what I’m feeling and yet in complete shock that I’m actually here to begin with. That look. You don’t realize it but you give me that look a lot,” she told him as she speared a piece of cantaloupe on her fork. “So, this time, I thought I’d tell you exactly what was going on in my head.”

She brought the fruit to her mouth and chewed silently. He leaned toward her and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Thank you,” he told her with a small genuine smile. “I needed to hear that.”

“Which part?” She asked.

“All of it,” he told her. “Every word.”

They finished breakfast and then moved to the couch. They reclined on his couch and Claire laid against his uninjured left side as Eliot flipped through channels on his television.

“When did I get cable?” He asked in confusion.

“While you were on that last job,” Claire told him with a chuckle. “I made a call. I was bored.”

“There’s other things to do besides watch TV, you know,” he told her with a stern glance.

“Yes, but nothing is quite so entertaining as _Growing Pains_ reruns,” she told him with a playful laugh. “That Mike Seaver sure gets himself into a lot of trouble.”

“Mike who?” Eliot asked.

“Good lord, I knew you didn’t watch TV but how have you never heard of _Growing Pains_?”

“Because I left home when I was 18 to defend my country, that’s how,” he said as he poked her side teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah, Captain America, I get it already,” she said with a chuckle.

“You sure you don’t want to tell me about this job you’re working on?” He asked her.

“Can’t,” she told him. “Can’t risk it. I’ll tell you all about it afterward, though. Promise. Wait,” she said as she breezed passed a show that caught her eye. “Go back! That was _I Dream of Jeanie_!”

He quirked a brow at her and then rolled his eyes. “You gotta be kidding me. We’re not watching that.”

“Aww, but Captain Nelson’s so cute!”

“I don’t think so,” he said with a smirk as he continued flipping channels. He spotted something with two muscle cars racing and stopped. “Much better.”

She scrunched her nose up in disgust and tried to reach across him for the remote. He held it further away from her with his bandaged hand. He knew she wouldn’t push too hard for it out of fear of hurting his bruised right side.

He waited until she leaned just far enough that he could make his move and then swiftly leaned forward to capture her lips with his. Her hand that had been straining to reach the remote went slack and fell to rest on his chest. He pressed the power button on the remote and then dropped it to the floor. He brought both hands to her waist and hiked her shirt up so he could caress the skin on her back. He traced small circles on her back with his left hand and held her tighter against his left side. She slowly moved her hand up to his cheek and gently held the left side of his face as the kisses deepened. He attempted to pull her even closer and then shift her on top of him but jostled his left side too much and pulled back from the kisses with a wince.

Claire sighed and shook her head at him in amusement. “You just had to try, didn’t you?”

He chuckled and shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

“You heal fast, shug, but not _that_ fast,” Claire told him with an affectionate grin as she placed a kiss to his neck. “We should probably take it easy for now.”

“Seems like a waste to me,” Eliot told her with a smirk.

“We’ll make up for it when you don’t have bruised ribs and a sprained wrist,” she told him sternly. “I think you can do without this time.”

“This time and the next who knows how many weeks. Not to mention the last three that you’ve been gone. You really can’t blame me for making a move.”

She chuckled and grinned at him. “I never said I blamed you and, for the record, I thoroughly enjoyed the kissing.”


	14. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire's job finishes and she calls Eliot with news.

The rest of the day had been casual and relaxed. At one point he’d found her staring thoughtfully at her guitar in the corner. When he asked what she was thinking about, she’d simply answered, “North Carolina.”

He knew the guitar reminded her of her grandfather and aside from mentioning her uncle and her grandfather every now and then she’d never really talked about her family. Especially not recently. He knew she’d worked years to get back to the states and see them again and he wondered why she hadn’t attempted to contact them yet. Or why she hadn’t mentioned wanting to visit.

But the moment had passed without any further discussion and he’d talked her into letting him cook dinner for her. The dinner had been delicious, if he did say so himself, and while they hadn’t been able to get as far as he would have liked after dinner they’d worked around his injuries pretty successfully.

Only he woke up to find Claire gone with a note left on her pillow. He wondered how she’d managed to sneak out without him noticing and then he remembered he’d taken two of those pain pills she’d gotten him just before bed. He’d had a moment of doubt that she may not be coming back until he walked out into his living room and spotted her guitar still resting in the corner. He had no doubt she’d left it behind on purpose. Especially after that moment yesterday. She’d left it to remind him she’d be back.

He took the rest of the day to recuperate and then returned to work the next morning. They started gathering intel for their next job and then it was full steam ahead again. He had a passing thought to wonder about Claire but beyond that he was too busy to focus on anything else other than the crew and their current job.

Two jobs later, he and Nate were drinking to celebrate a successful con when Nate suddenly turned to the television above the bar. It was on the nightly news and something had caught his attention.

“Somebody finally got Morimoto,” Nate said with a smirk. “It’s about time.”

Eliot looked up to watch the story. Morimoto had been busted for embezzling and attempted murder. He’d hired hitmen to take out his wife who’d been attempting to separate from him and who had found a loophole in her prenup. They’d found his communications with the hitmen and arrested the group he’d hired to take out Mrs. Morimoto. They knew the man was responsible for torpedoing numerous local businesses and stealing inventions before their inventors could file for a patent. The public now knew what people on the inside of his organization had known all along. He was not a nice guy.

The wife had ended up with the business and all of Morimoto’s property as she’d managed to purchase controlling shares right under his nose. Mrs. Morimoto was either a shrewd businesswoman or she’d had some serious help.

He was betting on the latter.

“I had him on my list of potential marks,” Nate said as he took a sip of his whiskey. “Guess I can cross him off.” The story went on to say that a slow leak of information that began six weeks ago was what made the arrest possible. Nate smirked and then poured himself another glass before he held it out toward Eliot in a salute. “Tell Claire she did a hell of a job.”

And that’s when Eliot put it all together. Claire had been on this job for close to six weeks. And she’d stumbled upon some piece of information that put a woman’s life at risk before she left. It had to be Mrs. Morimoto. He gave Nate a proud smirk and nodded. “I’ll tell her, but I’m pretty sure she already knows.”

A couple of hours later as he reached his apartment his phone rang. He quickly answered it and hoped he’d guessed who it was on the other end of the line.

“Hello?” He asked.

“Long time, no talk, Spencer.”

Her voice sounded like honey, smooth and sweet. God, had he missed her. “I just saw the most interesting story on the news.”

“Yeah?” she asked playfully.

“Yeah, seems Morimoto was arrested and his wife took over the company. Imagine that,” Eliot said with a smirk.

“Well, what a crazy turn of events,” she said with an audible grin.

“Almost unbelievable.”

“On a totally unrelated note,” she said with a chuckle. “The job’s done.”

He laughed. “Unrelated?”

“Absolutely not in anyway related to Morimoto.”

“Uh huh, you expect me to buy that?” Eliot asked with a smirk.

“Not really, no,” she answered simply.

“So, now that the job’s done, what’s next?” He asked her.

“About that,” she said hesitantly. He heard her sigh nervously. “I know I said I’d be back as soon as the job was over, but…I’ve been thinking…” She paused and then continued after a short moment. “My family hasn’t heard from me in seven years. I—I should—I should probably go home. You know, for a little while, don’t you think?”

He couldn’t say this was entirely unexpected. He missed her but he could tell even before she left that this was coming. “I’m sure they miss you,” he told her. “They’re probably worried about you.”

“I’m worried about them too,” she said softly. “And I miss them so much it hurts sometimes.”

“Then you should go, sweetheart,” he said as he let himself into his apartment. “I’m gonna be here for a while. You can come back anytime. If you need to do this then don’t let me stop you.”

There was a long silent moment before she spoke again. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he said as he closed and locked his door. “Do you need me with you? If you do I could take off now and—“

She chuckled warmly and interrupted him. “No, that’s okay. I’m glad to hear you’d come if I needed you though.”

“Never question that,” he told her. “Ever.”

“I won’t,” she told him. “But I think this is something I should do on my own. I haven’t seen them since I was eleven, it might be a bit of a shock.”

“Call me if you need me,” he said as he sat down on his couch and his eyes drifted to her guitar. “I mean it. Any time, any day.”

“I will,” she promised. “You’re the first person I’ll call if I need anything, Eliot. The very first person.”

“Are you flying or driving?” He asked.

“Both,” she answered. “The nearest airport is 45 minutes from home.”

“Call me when you land and then when you get to wherever home is, okay? I wanna know if you get there safely,” he said worriedly. Really he was just looking for reasons to prolong the phone call.

She chuckled. “Wow, I haven’t had anyone to call when I’m traveling in years. That’ll take some getting used to again.”

“Seriously, don’t forget,” Eliot said with an amused grin.

“I won’t,” she said with a soft laugh. “My flight’s boarding,” she told him. “I should go.”

“Be careful.”

“You too,” she told him. “Love you.”

“You too,” he said as he repeated her own words.

He hesitantly hung up his phone and then threw it onto the coffee table. Her need to return home wasn’t surprising but he was looking forward to having her back. She would be back eventually, he was certain of that. She’d been away from her family long enough. He knew she deserved to see them and he didn’t want to stand in the way of that. He could deal with missing her for a little while longer and she’d assured him she’d call if she really needed him.

There was a knock at his apartment door and he furrowed his brow at it as he answered. He found Hardison and Parker on the other side of the door. Hardison held up a six pack of beer with a sympathetic smile.

“Tara had me book Arm Candy’s airfare,” Hardison explained. “Thought you might need some company.”

Eliot gave Hardison and Parker a ghost of a grin before he accepted the six pack and motioned them inside. “Thanks.”

“So, is she gone _gone_ or just gone?” Parker asked as she shut the door behind them.

“Just gone,” Eliot answered. “For now. She’s going home.”

“Where’s home?” Parker asked.

“North Carolina,” Hardison answered.

Eliot turned a glare on him.

“What?” Hardison asked. “You had to assume I had a file on her. I have files on everybody.”

“Do you think she’ll be back sooner or later?” Parker asked in concern.

“Don’t know,” Eliot answered with a shrug as he opened one of the bottles of beer. “But I know I’ll be here whenever she decides to come back.”

“I hope it’s sooner,” Parker told him. “I like her. I like seeing you with her.”

“Yeah, man, I gotta admit,” Hardison said with a smirk. “You’re almost _pleasant_ when she’s around. I don’t mind that at all.”

“Yeah,” Eliot said with a chuckle. “I guess so.”

“In the meantime,” Parker said as she grabbed a beer for herself. “You’re stuck with us, and we like you, growly angry grumbling and all.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but secretly he felt a swell of affection for these two people he hesitantly claimed as family. And he hoped, someday, that Claire would be a part of this too. No matter what, though, he’d always be there for her if she needed him. Whenever that may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of book two! I've already started on book three but it's gonna have to wait until I finish a couple of other WIP stories first. But don't worry there will be more adventures for Claire and Eliot!  
> Happy reading!  
> angellwings


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